Time to Spare
by EmySabath
Summary: HBPcompliant rewrite of Time For Me. Voldemort has a sinister plot to catch Harry out of bounds and cast a spell to send him back two hundred years, but all does not go as planned and Harry isn't as gone as he'd thought...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary: **A post-Half Blood Prince rewrite of Time For Me. Voldemort has a plan to catch Harry out of bounds and cast a spell to send him back two hundred years, but all does not go as planned and Harry isn't as gone as he'd thought...

**A/N: **For those who've read Time For Me, you'll notice that the majority of this is exactly the same. That's because it really took surprisingly little tweaking to make it HBP-compliant. However, in order to save time I cut-'n'-pasted quite a bit. I'm worried I may have missed something, so if you find a passage or word that's inconsistent with HBP or with the rest of the story so far, please let me know. Thanks!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Prologue:

Harry floated lazily around the Quidditch pitch, lost in thought. McGonagall had cancelled Quidditch for the year, saying it was too dangerous to have such a large gathering outside the walls of the school, so the only chance he had to fly were these nighttime excursions. They were also the only chance he had to relieve some of the stress that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his life.

The first example had been over the summer. He had returned to the Dursleys' as the headmaster had wished and stayed there until he came of age, then he packed everything he'd ever owned (which was depressingly little) and rode the Knight Bus to Grimmauld Place. There he learned, to his surprise, that the house had been abandoned. With the Secret Keeper gone, the Fidelius charm was cancelled and Bellatrix and Narcissa remembered their family home, and decided to pay it a visit; the Order barely had enough time to get out before the Death Eaters had apparated in.

Of course, Harry didn't know this until he got to Hogwarts and found the Order huddled together in the Great Hall. It was heartening to know that they hadn't given up, but Harry could easily see the amount of chaos and confusion that Dumbledore's death had caused.

Tonks, Kingsley, Remus and Bill Weasley had all banded together to train Harry, pushing him to work hard and learn fast anything and everything they could teach. Remus covered various Dark creatures who were known to work for Voldemort, Bill taught him how to make and break curses and wards, Tonks taught him how to disguise himself in all sorts of ways – including the basics of animagus training, and Kingsley trained him physically and in dueling. By the end of the summer, Harry was looking forward to school as a nice vacation.

Naturally, that wasn't how it worked out. After a month on the routine that his teachers had devised, Harry was able to finish his schoolwork at a record speed, leaving him with inordinate amounts of free time. And with no Quidditch…

Thus Harry had taken to continuing his training on his own in the Room of Requirement every evening. Ron and Hermione were oblivious as they had finally gotten together over the summer and were quite busy exploring their relationship. So, every evening for the last three weeks he'd gone to the Room of Requirement to run laps, lift weights, and do other exercises Kingsley had shown him. After he was thoroughly tired, he showered, then took his Firebolt down to the pitch and flew until he could imagine that he was just a regular kid, with nothing special about him or his destiny, and with no impossible tasks ahead.

Much though he hated to admit it, he had no idea whatsoever how to complete the destruction of Voldemort. Oh he wanted to, he wanted Voldemort gone more than he'd thought possible when he'd first heard the dreaded wizard's name. But he didn't even know how Dumbledore had found those Horcruxes that were already discovered. He had not idea how to find the pendant, and hadn't had any luck discovering the identity of R.A.B. Harry would never admit it to his friends – rarely even admitted it to himself – but he was beginning to despair of ever being able to completely destroy the Dark Lord.

Normally, Harry used the time on his broom to relax and get his mind free of such thoughts, but tonight that just didn't seem possible. His mind swirled with thoughts of Death Eaters and Voldemort. Two dozen people had been killed already since the end of summer. And those were only the ones the Daily Prophet reported as confirmed Death Eater attacks; Harry didn't doubt there were more. It was all happening so fast. If he didn't hurry, Voldemort will have taken over before Harry had a chance to destroy the Horcruxes. After all, it took Dumbledore most of a school year just to find one, and that was Dumbledore!

Harry sighed, pulling his broom around for one last lap. He was getting nowhere tonight. It all came down to time, though! If he could just be sure that he had enough time to gather the Horcruxes and destroy them before Voldemort destroyed everything he cared about…

A flash of light from below distracted the boy and he realized suddenly that he'd ventured outside the wards, something no student was supposed to do without an escort of a professor or an auror.

With a flick of his wrist, Harry pulled his wand out of its holster and slowly dropped to ground level. He recognized the part of the forest he was in, and wasn't too worried. From there, he could get to Hogwarts in less than a minute if he sprinted.

"Potter. Potter!" a familiar voice hissed behind him. Harry spun around, but found himself pointing his wand at thin air. "Potter, listen, get back inside the wards, now! They'll be here any second and –"

But whatever the mysterious voice was going to add was lost as a series of pops rang through the forest. Harry spun around again, this time finding himself facing over a dozen hooded figures, with one in particular at the front.

"Hello, Harry," Voldemort drawled.

Harry cursed. "I do not have time for this," he growled to himself.

"Oh, I think you'll soon find yourself with…time to spare," Voldemort smiled, pointing his wand. "_Tempus Expugno!_"

There was a bright flash of light and Harry disappeared.

One of the Death Eaters burst into spontaneous applause, lifting his hood and mask and striding cheerfully up to the Dark Lord's side.

"Oh wonderful, wonderful!" the man exclaimed, his long chocolate-brown queue bouncing with each boisterous step. "That was done perfectly! I mean, obviously not exactly how _you_ wanted it, m'lord, but I think things will work out better the way I made the spell."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Aries," he growled, "are you saying you deviated from my exact specifications _without my permission!"_

"Well, yes, in a nutshell," Aries said with an unconcerned smile. "After all, you never would have given your permission, not with your original plan in mind. And what a disaster _that_ would have been!"

"Aries," Voldemort hissed warningly. Aries was his most valuable and most intelligent Death Eater, the only spell-smith and ward-master in his ranks. But even he had limits, and the young man was treading dangerously close to them.

"Oh relax, my dear Marvolo," Aries sighed, "stress kills, you know. Anyway, as I was saying, Potter wasn't sent back 200 years, like you wanted, instead it was more like…20 years, two months. Oh, and the spatial calibration was slightly off, so he ended up over by the…lake I believe."

"Aries, what the devil are you doing!" Severus demanded, rushing forward from the throng of Death Eaters and gripping his friend by the arm so hard it almost hurt.

"Sorry Sev," Aries said, dropping the rowdy act and looking chagrined. "I couldn't exactly have told you, could I?"

"Told. Him. What?" Voldemort demanded, practically vibrating with fury.

Aries pulled away from his friend and backed up a few steps, snickering. "Haven't you figured it out yet? Brilliant wizard indeed. _Finite Incantatem_."

As he waved his wand and cast the spell, Aries' appearance shifted, melting. His brown hair darkened to jet-black, his skin lost it's healthy tan, and his bland blue eyes blurred into a brilliant green. Finally, the blank skin of his forehead revealed a familiar scar.

A chorus of Death Eaters echoed what the Dark Lord shouted in outrage: "Harry Potter!"

"The one and only," Aries smirked, then glanced at where his younger counterpart had stood. "Well, now that you've sent away my double that is."

"So you're saying that my most faithful follower, my most devout servant, the only person I trusted with access to my personal library, is Harry Potter?" Voldemort laughed. "What would your dear parents think of you now, my jinx-smith?"

"They would be proud as can be, Riddle," Harry sneered. "You forget, thanks to you, I got the chance to know them. Oh, and it might be worth mentioning that I'm not the only one you sent back. A disloyal young Slytherin got here a little early. Say hello to your son, Lucius."

The blond aristocrat fell to his knees. He had only been released from Azkaban because of his son's 'successful' mission the previous spring, and his stay had damaged the man's composure badly. The only thing that had made him fit to serve in Voldemort's forces was his son's constant presence beside him.

While the Death Eater tried to wrap his mind around a fact he didn't want to be true, Harry waved over a person who had gone unnoticed standing in the shadow of Hagrid's hut.

"Hello," said the figure, a tall, thin man with strawberry-blonde hair in a crew cut above his slightly freckled face. "My name is Charles Higgins III. Though, I suppose most of you know me better by a different name and face." He, too, performed the counter-spell on himself and shimmered into a pale-skinned platinum blonde man. "Hello father. Wish I could say it's good to see you again, but quite frankly I got bored of you when I was back in school."

"Draco?" Lucius gasped, falling to his knees. "You...you were that horrible Higgins brat? What about the American family at your graduation? The generations of accurate background information at the ministry?"

"Well, Dumbledore helped a fair bit in the deception, and Harry gave us a heads up for whenever you went digging where you shouldn't have," Draco sneered. Severus, by now, had retreated to the sidelines and Harry could tell he was gaping in shock. "In fact, Harry was a right chap about the whole thing. Whereas you…you were nothing but a spineless worm who wouldn't even help out a fellow Slytherin like poor Sev when he got in a scuffle with those prats Potter and Black. Two against one is not how a Slytherin fight should be. Well," he amended, smirking, "two Slytherins against one Gryffindor is alright."

"Oh, by the way," Harry interjected, looking at his watch. "You might want to scurry off now. The headmistress got a notice of your planned attack about fifteen minutes ago and should have amassed adequate forces by now. So…bye, now!"

"Blasted menace!" Voldemort shouted, raising his wand. "_Flagellatus!_"

"_Inlaedus_," Harry countered lazily. "You forget, I've specially designed most of your curses, and I alone know each and every counter-curse by heart and wand."

With one last glare, Voldemort and his Death-Eaters, including Snape, disapparated with a series of loud pops, never noticing the spell Harry had cast with his wand behind his back.

"Think Sev'll be alright?" Harry asked worriedly, bringing down the Forgetfulness Ward as he and Draco walked toward the castle.

"He'll be fine," Draco answered, then grimaced. "He may never forgive us, but he'll be fine." Harry sighed and looked over his shoulder, so Draco whacked him on the back of the head. "Hey, there wasn't any better way, really. Well, you might have been more tactful."

"I couldn't help it," Harry moaned. "I saw Potter- I mean, er, me – disappear and I suddenly realized that it had all come full circle. Plus, now that I'm the only Harry Potter I have twice the energy, and that's a bit much to handle with tact."

"Man, Harry Potter," Draco sighed. "It's going to be so _weird_ calling you that again."

"Feels weird _being_ Harry Potter again," Harry said, reaching up to scratch his neck. "Like my own skin doesn't fit anymore."

"At least you don't look like Potter. Though that could be because you're an age he never reached."

Harry remembered a time he would have flinched at such a callous reminder of his parents' deaths, but sixteen years had left him plenty of time to grieve, and he no longer felt the loss so much.

"You do realize that, by they're reckoning," Harry gestured at the castle, "we were _children_ just moments ago."

"Well, let them worry about that. Come on, I prepared some tea before I left, it should be nice and hot."

Harry took a deep breath, smiled, and let himself be lead up the castle steps. However, as soon as he opened the doors, he realized that warm cup of tea was going to be a ways away.

"Mr. Potter? And Mr. Malfoy?" Headmistress McGonagall called wonderingly, stepping into the light. "Or perhaps you are more used to the names Hesuchazo and Higgins."

"Either will work, Minerva," Draco said tiredly. He opened his mouth again, but whatever he was about to say was cut off as another voice spoke from the shadows.

"Harry?"

"Hermione?" Harry asked, perking up. "And Ron? Oh, it's so good to see you again."

"Again? What do you mean, mate?" Ron asked quizzically, removing the invisibility cloak and stepping nearer after a wary glance at the headmaster. "Bloody hell! You're old!"

"I am not!" Harry sputtered indignantly. Draco swallowed a snigger and Harry shot him a dirty look that reminded him, quite clearly, that they were the same age. "I'll have you know I'm only 37; and I should be the one cursing - I've got twenty years on you and you're still taller than me!"

Ron gaped at him for a moment, then caught sight of Malfoy.

"And look at him! The Death Eater is all grown up, too! He did this to you, didn't he Harry? I'll get him for you!" He rolled up his sleeves as if to do just that, but Harry grasped his wrists in a surprisingly firm grip and held him off.

"Steady there, Ron," he said, an amused light in his eyes. "First of all, I'm quite capable of fighting my own battles. Second, Draco is not a Death Eater; and third, he did not do this to me, I did this to us."

"What is it?" Hermione asked, looking him over from head to foot. "An aging potion? But you must have drunk a whole cauldron-full each to have aged twenty years."

"Nothing so simple, Hermione," Harry said, drawing himself up.

Draco sighed and conjured himself a chair. Harry wasn't very chatty, but get him on the subject of the intricacies of spells he had created and the Gryffindor could talk the ears off a brick wall.

"It's actually rather complicated. You see, I was asked to make a spell to send myself back in time two hundred years, but I was already aware it wouldn't send me back near that far. So what I did was I created a spell that would send a person back in time ten years and one month for each wave of the wand, but told Voldemort it was a century to a wand wave. I had to convince him not to practice on anything, though, because he would have easily sensed the lack of power in the spell, and that was difficult, but it was all worth it. I've been working on that spell for over a year now, and I finally got to see it pay off."

"Wait, wait, wait," Hermione held up her hands. Draco was grateful; he knew Harry was just getting warmed up. "You 'told Voldemort'? He was the one who asked you to make the spell?"

Harry nodded, pleased that his brilliant friend had picked up on this detail.

"And why were you working for Voldemort?" Hermione asked faintly, she had gone a little green.

"That is what I would like to know," McGonagall demanded sharply.

Harry cringed. From what Charles had told him, McGonagall was one who had reacted badly to his 'turning traitor'. She did not take kindly to Dark wizards in her own house.

"Maybe I should start at the beginning," he said, sheepishly.

"Great, now if we could just get you to decide where the beginning _is_," Draco sneered. Ron bristled and made to jump to his friend's defense, but Harry beat him to it.

"Ha! Got you there, mate," he declared triumphantly. "The story obviously begins with my night-time flight on the pitch."

"Wrong again, Slythindor," Draco countered. "You wouldn't know it, of course, but the story actually begins with Professor Higgins sending me a note with my correspondence Defense lesson."

"What?" Harry squawked. "You little cheater! You sent –" He groaned. "Fine, I give up; if you know so much, _you_ tell it."

"Alright," Draco clapped his hands together in a way that seemed very familiar to Hermione. "As you all know, I had to leave school after…er…last year. My mother didn't want me to fall behind in my schooling, so she found me a set of teachers who would be willing to send me courses with a weekly owl. One of them was actually Professor Higgins. However, along with this week's coursework, I received a note, telling me that I should be at the edge of Hogwarts wards at 10:13 today. I thought it must be some sort of extra-credit work, so I apparated here and what did I find but this prat," he jerked his thumb at Harry, "floating on his broom, head in the clouds, _outside_ of the wards."

"WHAT?" Ron, Hermione, and McGonagall demanded loudly. Harry backed away in mock alarm.

"Hey, I had a lot on my mind," he said defensively, "believe me, it's all sorted out now."

"Anyway, I managed to catch his attention and put an invisibility spell on myself," Draco continued. "I tried to warn him to get back inside the wards, but before he could get it in his thick head that standing unprotected in the Forbidden Forest might be a bad idea, Voldemort and a bunch of Death Eaters apparate in and send us both back to the summer before term."

"But…" Hermione protested, wrinkling her nose in confusion. Harry could practically see her thoughts: _that couldn't possibly be long enough._

"The 1977-78 term," he amended quickly. He was about to continue when a screech rent the air, announcing the arrival of a jet-black owl.

"Baal!" Draco exclaimed in surprise, standing and reaching up with one arm to let the owl perch. But Baal screeched angrily and pecked Harry on the top of the head before settling down on the back of Draco's chair, glaring balefully.

"That's not a good sign," Harry muttered, patting his injured scalp and wincing when his fingertips came back speckled with blood.

"Who's owl is that?" Ron asked.

"That's Sev's owl," Harry said dully. He untied the letter from Baal's leg and read it aloud.

"_To: Whoever you are,_

_If you have anything at all to say for yourselves, meet me you-know-where in two days._

_Severus Snape"_

"Ouch," Draco added. "At least he's given us a chance to explain ourselves."

"And we have a chance to practice, too." Harry was, evidently, attempting to be positive. "So, you guys want to hear what happened?"

"I have to hear this," said Hermione. "You, Malfoy and Snape friends? I wouldn't think even time travel could do that."

Harry and Draco laughed, McGonagall raised an eyebrow, but Ron just frowned. Harry suddenly knew that this was going to be a very long night. With a sigh, he conjured chairs for the rest of them and a table for him to lean against - he had long ago lost the ability to feel safe while sitting - and began a very long tale.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Chapter 1: Back to Basics

There was a bright flash of light and Harry felt something grip his arm tightly as he began to spin. It was like traveling by floo, except instead of fireplaces whirling by, there were flashes that lasted just long enough for him to make out semi-familiar faces and places, but not long enough for him to properly identify them. He tucked his elbows in anyway, drawing the person next to him closer. Relatively soon, the spinning slowed and stopped, and the brightness merged into sunlight.

He was by the lake on the grounds of Hogwarts, just after noon in the middle of the summer, if the shadows and the heat were anything to judge by. And he wasn't alone.

"Get off me, Malfoy," Harry growled, ripping his arm out of the Slytherin's grasp. He started stalking back toward Hogwarts, but Malfoy stopped him, grabbing onto the back of his cloak.

"Potter, do you have any idea what you just did!" Malfoy practically shrieked.

"Well I know very well what I didn't do," Harry sneered. "I didn't force you to come to the forest, I didn't invite Voldemort to join us, and I certainly didn't cast whatever spell that was!"

"Tempus Expugno," Malfoy ground out. "Latin for time capture. You just got us sent back in time, you moronic Gryffindor!"

"Don't talk to me like that, Death Eater!" Harry snapped. "If it wasn't for you, I'd still be on my broom!"

"In case you didn't notice, I was trying to _warn you_. If you'd look past your idiotic stubbornness for one moment you would realize I was _trying_ to turn my back on that life!"

"Well then why are you so bloody tense?" Harry exclaimed. "We may be in the past, but Hogwarts is still here, so let's just go to the current headmaster and have him send us back."

"Don't be so optimistic," Malfoy snapped. "There is no way to send us 'back'. We're stuck here."

"Stuck here?" Harry repeated dumbly. "But, wait, why? If we can go back in time, why can't we go forward?"

"Because there is no such thing as forward, Potter! You can only go back in time, because that merely involves retracing the present until you get back to the past, but that consequently means that the present becomes the future, which doesn't exist until it becomes the present again. And for your information, I'm so _tense_ because I may have been thinking about not being a Death Eater in our time, but now I don't have any _choice_, do I?"

Harry blinked, twice.

"What?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, muttered about the stupidity of Gryffindors in general and stalked off. Harry very deliberately did _not follow_ him, but walked toward the castle, where Malfoy also seemed to be heading. Unfortunately, Malfoy stopped suddenly in front of the main doors and whirled around.

"Let's get one thing straight, Potter," he said firmly. Harry raised an eyebrow at the commanding tone, but said nothing. "I don't fancy mucking up the past here and accidentally preventing my own birth, so no matter what, don't you _dare_ try to change anything."

Harry wanted to protest, there were so many reasons to – the future/present was horrible, so many people's lives could be better if certain truths were known, certain actions prevented; besides, _Malfoy_ was ordering him around – but he knew, though it galled him to admit it even to himself, that Malfoy was right, and that a slip of the tongue could cause disaster.

"Fine," he snarled, then continued as Malfoy started to turn back, "but you know, if we're anywhere near our own time, we'll be recognized on sight. Obviously, we can't tell our names to anyone, but really, we look quite a bit like our parents. We can't just waltz in there and tell the headmaster we're Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy; that would change history all by itself."

Malfoy glared at him and a muscle in his left eyebrow twitched; he looked like he was physically preventing himself from throttling Harry.

"So what are you suggesting, Potter?" he ground out. "That we hide out in complete isolation for however long it takes to get back?"

"I'm suggesting that we create fake identities," Harry said, enunciating clearly. "We can still tell the headmaster that we're from the future, so that he can help us out, but this way he won't know who we are on sight."

Malfoy sat down heavily.

"Jeez, Potter, doesn't take long for you to mess up someone's life, does it?" he muttered.

"Hey, took almost seven years for you," Harry retorted angrily, "my parents only lasted a little over one year."

The Slytherin seemed to come back to himself at that, which made Harry even more disgruntled, but he swallowed it and distracted himself by trying to come up with a fake persona.

"I'm Charles Higgins III," Malfoy announced a few minutes later. "I'm from a wealthy, pureblood, American family who originally came from Britain. After deeming my curriculum at the Salem Institute insufficient, I was sent here to go to Hogwarts. Family ties to the school and whatnot."

Harry thought this over, then shook his head. "You can't be pureblood, too easy to verify," he thought for a moment while Malfoy gaped in outrage. "Your great grandfather, Charles Higgins I, was a squib who moved to America and started the company that has brought your family so much money; but he always stayed faithful to his roots and maintained the family tradition that the next wizard in the family be a Charles Higgins."

"I will NOT pose myself as a mudblood, Potter!" Malfoy shrieked, having found his voice at last.

"Fine," Harry said, shrugging, "then you set yourself up to be found out. Besides, it's not like you wouldn't have _any_ wizarding roots, and you can be just as snobby about the Higgins family business as you could about being a Pureblood Malfoy."

Malfoy sulked and glared, but didn't protest again.

"Well, what about you then? Who're you going to be?" he demanded.

"I don't know, I'm no good at just making stuff up," Harry snorted, "well, unless it's Divinations homework, that is."

"Tell you what, I'll go by your version of the Higgins story, if you be Aries Hesuchazo," Malfoy sneered.

"Why, what's it mean?" asked Harry warily.

"Well, Aries is the Greek god of war, but Hesuchazo means 'to lead a quiet life'. Seems perfect to me. After all, everyone sees you as the High-and-Mighty, Savior of the World, but you're just a big doof with nothing special about him."

"You're right," Harry said with a laugh, startling Malfoy, "that does suit me. All right, I'm Aries Hesuchazo, son of a Greek wizard who left the home country when he was 11, during the second Muggle World War after his parents were killed – doesn't speak hardly a word of the language now – and a muggle-born English witch. Both were educated at Hogwarts – a Slytherin and a Ravenclaw respectively – and my father, after experiencing heavy prejudice because of his house, became paranoid and overprotective, convincing my mother to home-school me until this year, when I convinced them that, since I'm of age, they couldn't really stop me anyway."

Malfoy blinked, seemingly completely stunned by what Harry had come up with. Despite the boy's claims to the contrary, Draco privately thought Harry must be quite good at such things as alibis, once he was given something to work with. It also quite stunned him that Harry would even consider setting his parents up as anything other than tried and true Gryffindors.

"Ah, but how do you know we're even in a time where the second world war would be applicable?" Malfoy asked deviously.

"I don't, but I can change the story as need be," Harry said with a shrug. "Now we just need glamour charms. I want brown hair and I want it long, plus a nice tan for once, and blue eyes. What about you?"

"Why should I have to change anything?" Malfoy growled. "I'm perfect as I am."

Harry's mouth opened and closed like a fish for a moment. "There are just…so many things _wrong_ with that statement," he finally stammered out. "I'll start with strategy first, though. You look like a Malfoy, plain and simple. If we don't change how you look, people will wonder, and that's dangerous. I say strawberry blonde, very short; and no gel, and perhaps change your eyes and skin, too."

"I'll get you for this someday, Potter," Malfoy growled, but he raised his wand and made the appropriate changes.

"Ah ah ah," Harry corrected him, "that's _Hesuchazo_."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

With their fake identities firmly in mind, the two time travelers made their way – Malfoy grumbling and Harry strolling pleasantly – to the headmaster's office. There was a brief incident when Harry realized he didn't know the password, but Malfoy just looked down his nose at the Gryffindor and knocked. The gargoyle stepped aside moments later and they both looked up at a hardly-changed Dumbledore.

"Oh, my; and who might you be?" the headmaster asked.

Malfoy stayed sullenly silent through the entire explanation, which was actually quite short, as Harry had to leave out their names and anything that might give away their identities. In the end he settled on saying: "We're victims of time travel from October 26, 1997. Can you tell us when we are?"

Dumbledore's eyebrows lifted clear into his hairline, but he replied, "August 26, 1977." Then, after a significant pause wherein he seemed to be speechless, "Oh _dear_. We'll have to get you two set up right away, term begins in less than a week. You're already wearing glamour, so I trust you had the foresight to make up false histories?"

Harry and Malfoy nodded, and the three of them set about getting Aries Hesuchazo and Charles Higgins III registered at Hogwarts for the 1977-1978 term. Both had been to Hogsmead the day of their transport – it being a Hogsmead weekend – and so they were lucky enough to have funds for books and robes and such in their pockets, and Dumbledore promised to take care of 'everything else'. Just what 'everything else' might be, neither thought to ask.

After a rather loud and insult-filled argument, Dumbledore decided that Charles would be put in Gryffindor with Aries, since muggle-born witches and wizards – even those with squib ancestors – were not welcomed in Slytherin under the present climate, and Dumbledore thought it best to keep his two temporally abnormal students together. Harry hoped that Dumbledore wouldn't have to change his mind the hard way after they killed each other off.

Harry, of course – or Aries, as he was now to be known – led the way to Gryffindor tower, giving Malfoy – Higgins – a tour of the basic facilities, including the hazard that was the girls' dormitory stairs. He privately thought it would be far more amusing just to let Higgins find out on his own, but Dumbledore wouldn't have approved, and the former Slytherin would have murdered him for it. Aries figured it would be best to keep the peace for as long as possible.

Unfortunately, that didn't prove to be long as, upon entering the Seventh Year Boys' dorms and noticing the initials monogrammed into the footboards, Harry had to sit down rather suddenly.

"What in the name of Salazar's Staff is wrong now!" Malfoy snapped, hauling Harry back to his feet.

"We are in _so_ much trouble," Harry muttered. He pointed to each bed in order. "RL – Remus Lupin, SB – Sirius Black, JP – James Potter, and PP – Peter Pettigrew."

There was a long pause, then Malfoy turned around, dragging Harry with him. "That is it," he declared. "I'm having us transferred to Hufflepuff. There is no way I'm sharing a dorm with a mass murderer, a werewolf, and _your_ dead father."

Harry shoved him away and stood, glaring. "Remus Lupin went to extreme measures to ensure he was safe while he was at school. And Pettigrew didn't turn traitor until around the time I was born. Besides," he said with a tired smirk, "we both know we'd go insane within a week in Hufflepuff."

"Fine," Malfoy sneered, "but you owe me big."

"'Gryffindor Drools' T-shirt big?" Harry asked warily.

Malfoy shook his head, a cruel smirk playing on his lips. "Throw a Quidditch game big, Potter."

Harry waited two seconds, then responded, "We both play for Gryffindor now, though." He bolted down the rest of the stairs, dodging Malfoy's swinging fist, then yelled over his shoulder, "And it's Hesuchazo!"

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The next few days were spent in diligent study for both boys. Not of their new schoolbooks, because those covered the same material as Harry and Malfoy's sixth year. No, they were studying the last three months of Daily Prophet issues. They were surprised to realize that they shared a great appreciation for the dry, factual reporting, quite different from the embellished, ministry-controlled fiction of the present/future. Whenever the news became just too depressing (or dull, to Malfoy) they would challenge each other to expound on their fake pasts. These sparring matches would end when one or the other contradicted himself or fail to answer promptly. The winner then posed either a question or a dare that the loser had to answer or perform.

Harry found himself admitting that he'd almost been a Slytherin and speaking for an entire hour in Parseltongue.

Malfoy found himself telling about his stuffed bear Ponpon and singing 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star' to the staff at breakfast.

Malfoy relaxed a little more around Harry and stopped being so pushy, apparently thinking anyone worthy of Slytherin couldn't be all bad. Harry went along, comfortable so long as Malfoy wasn't insulting his friends or his parents; and, to tell the truth, he just couldn't reconcile a stuffed-bear-named-Ponpon wielding Malfoy with his image of Death Eater Malfoy. Rather than try to reconcile the two, Harry simply declared the new Malfoy 'Charles Higgins III' in his mind and was done with it. Malfoy did the same and, each with his own new image and name for the other, there were no more near-misses of almost calling the other by their old/future names.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries shut his journal after carefully signing his new name at the bottom of the day's entry and activated the locking charm. There were actually two on the book; the main one to prevent just anyone coughCharlescough from reading it, and a second on the first page where Harry had recorded his life-story-in-miniature, just in case the past/present became too much and he had to be obliviated to keep from meddling.

On their fourth day there, Charles had expounded on his explanation as to why they couldn't go forward, back to their own time.

"See, time is like this, okay?" Charles had said in his magicked American accent, spreading out a sheet of parchment. "It's straight and flat and one-dimensional. What happens in time travel is you take a piece of the present," he lifted the edge of the parchment, "and drag it back to the past," he curled the edge back so it touched the parchment in the middle. "Now, our personal timeline is curled up like this, but the full timeline is still spread out, like this," he slipped a second sheet under the first. "if our timeline were to diverge from the main timeline again – in going forward or in meddling with past events…" he ripped the curled part of the parchment completely away. "It just doesn't work, see? We would be caught in a never-ending loop, because we would cease to exist, which means we never would have meddled, which means time never would have ripped. Of course, things like that don't happen because time can't rip, so we can't change the past and we can't go back to our time. Got it?"

Aries did, at least in general: time was best left alone and Voldemort was a complete and utter prat for messing with it in the first place.

With a sigh, Aries stored the leather-bound book – a gift from Dumbledore – in a hidden compartment in his trunk, a la Moody. He was actually rather proud of his trunk. Instead of using different actual keys, he'd keyed the different compartments to different trunk sizes, using the magnitude of a shrinking spell as the indicator. When it was shrunk down to 1 foot by 1 foot by 1 foot, it opened to reveal a locked Gringotts safe-box with all his remaining money – a grand total of 20 galleons – the note written by R.A.B., which he had taken to carrying with him everywhere back in the future, a picture of himself, Ron and Hermione, and, of course, the journal.

A part of him sneered that he was being paranoid – _A locked page inside a locked journal inside a locked Gringotts box inside a secret compartment inside a locked trunk?_ – but after the training he had gone through, he figured a little paranoia never hurt anyone. Being careless, though, often did.

"Hey!" Charles' voice came through the door, accompanied by several sharp knocks. "Lunch time, Aries. You coming?"

"Yeah, I'll be right there!" Aries called back, quickly restoring his trunk to its proper size.

He walked out to find Charles slouching against the stairway wall, glaring at an apparently offensive stone opposite him.

"What's got your knickers in a twist?" Aries asked as they started off to the Great Hall. Charles often had fits of peak, and they always tended to be about the situation in general, but this anger seemed more…currently-based.

"The potions professor," Charles grumbled. "Professor Slughorn again. He came up to me while I was working on the summer assignment, asking me if I needed any _help_. I declined, but he just sat down anyway and started chatting about all the famous people he knew, asking me if I knew any of them."

"And to think, you were so eager to get into his little club last year," Aries teased. Charles shuddered.

"I think I understand why you stayed away, the man's obnoxious!"

"I know what you mean," Aries commented dryly. "We should both do our best to stay away from the Slug Club, I think. Those 'important people' could point us out as frauds faster than you can say the school motto." He took a breath and let it out again as they sat. "Anyway, up for another sparring match?"

"I'm always ready, goose-brain. Who's turn was it last?"

"Well, I finished off with that question about your aunt, so yours I guess." Aries smirked at the memory; he had asked what sort of hair Aunt Jill had and Charles had told him 'Red. First redhead in the family in fact, spread it around to the rest of us.' Aries had then been forced to point out that, unless Aunt Jill slept around a lot, she couldn't possibly have given Charles his red hair.

"All right, why doesn't your father speak Greek anymore? Wouldn't his aunt and uncle have spoken it when he went to live with them?" Charles asked slyly.

"No, not very much," Aries answered after barely a moment's hesitation. "Uncle Silas moved to England in his early-thirties where he met Auntie Nadia. She, of course, didn't speak Greek at all, so Father had to learn English right off if he wanted to communicate with anyone other than Uncle Silas – who was actually rather a bore. Once out of the habit, it never really came back to him."

The game went back and forth across the Gryffindor table until long after they had cleared their plates. Finally, Aries messed up, accidentally calling 'Auntie Nadia' 'Aunt Nadine'. Aries protested that they were practically the same name, but Charles was correct in stating that it could still make people suspicious, and that was the point of the game – to catch suspicious things before they happened.

"All right, you win," Aries admitted with a sigh. "What's my penalty?"

Charles drank the last of his pumpkin juice and stared at Aries grimly for a while before speaking. "Why are you so happy hear, when you looked downright miserable when I saw you on your broom?"

Harry sighed. He had figured some questions would be asked about his new attitude, but had hoped that Charles might steer clear. At least he seemed sincere in his curiosity, rather than just looking for some way to stir up trouble.

"Back home," he began slowly, "I had a task to complete. It was a race against time to try and get it done, and I didn't even know how to begin. The whole thing was rather daunting, really. But now…"

"Now you have twenty years to complete it," Charles said, nodding his comprehension.

"Right, so no worries," Aries winked, "you're sparring partner's not about to go wandering off school grounds in a sulk again, because I rather like it here."

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: I put both the prologue and chapter one here together in order to prevent inconsistencies in chapter numbers that sometimes happen (you know, where it's like 4. Chapter Three). Anyway, from now on, I'll be uploading one chapter every day to stall for time until I finish chapter eight.**

**PANTZ - Emerson**


	2. Meet the Parents

**Disclaimer:** Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary: **More of the HBP-compliant rewrite of Time For Me.

**A/N:** Here you go, chapter two, and the first dealings with Snape.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter Two: Meet the Parents

The last day and a half before the students arrived was full of study for Aries. Over the summer, he had been so focused on learning Defense that Remus had, rather abruptly decided he needed variety and enlisted Professor Vector to tutor him in arithmancy. He had found, to his surprise, that the subject wasn't that much more difficult than the summer work Dudley had been forcing him to do. He had dropped Herbology to study it during seventh year, and now added Ancient Runes to the list. However, he still felt that he had a lot of studying to do to catch up to the NEWT level, even if the NEWT level was only sixth year back home.

He felt like Hermione as he tried to stuff several years of learning into a couple days. But at least it kept his mind off the upcoming Welcoming Feast. Whenever he accidentally thought ahead to the inevitable meeting with his parents, godfather, their friend and the traitor a surge of panic rose in him that would take several minutes to dissipate.

An unfortunate side effect of this lack of thought, however, was that he felt completely blindsided when the doors to the Great Hall swung open and a hoard of chattering students entered, lead by the year's Heads Boy and Girl. The noise paused a moment, as the returning students caught a glimpse of Aries and Charles already seated at the Gryffindor table, then returned with fervor. Neither boy had any doubt what was the new subject of gossip.

Aries kept his eyes firmly on the Arithmancy book in his lap, but he could tell without even looking that all the people he was most anxious about seeing had seated themselves around him and Charles. Sure enough, halfway through the sorting, Harry felt a sharp jab to his side, bringing his attention to his 17-year-old dead godfather.

"Oi, who're you then?" Sirius asked in a rather loud whisper. Remus, sitting next to him, smacked him on the head. "Whassat for?"

"How tactless can you get, Sirius?" Remus asked with teasing exasperation. He leaned forward so he had a better line of sight to where Harry sat. "My name is Remus Lupin, and this gormless prat is Sirius Black, what's your name?"

"Ha-Aries, Aries Hesuchazo," Harry stammered.

"You'll have to excuse him," Charles put in from across the table, between James and Lily, "he was home-schooled, not much in the way of social skills. My name is Charles Higgins III."

"Oooh, an American," James said, raising an eyebrow. "Interesting."

"Not really," Aries said, under his breath but loud enough to be heard. Charles shot him a rather peeved look, but Aries just quirked an eyebrow at him, indicating that he was just getting back for the social skills comment.

"Very nice to meet you both, I'm sure," Lily said shortly, "but please, it is time for the sorting. Shush."

"S-sorry," Harry whispered, not wanting to get on his mother's bad side before he was even born. Lily graced him with a small smile, then pointedly turned her attention back to the first year on the stool.

Sirius made faces at her behind her back; someone on Harry's other side laughed – a horribly, high pitched, squeaky snicker – and he turned to see who it was. There, sitting just inches from his left elbow, was Peter Pettigrew. Harry felt his lip draw upwards in the beginnings of a sneer, but a sift kick to his shin stopped him short. Across the table, Charles glared at him. Harry glared back, but turned his attention to the sorting and away from the horrid, traitorous rat sitting next to him.

After the last student was sorted, Dumbledore stood up and called everyone's attention to him.

"I know you are all eager to fill your bellies, but first I know you are also eager to fill your curiosity," he said. "Let me introduce our other two new students, Aries Hesuchazo and Charles Higgins III. Boys, stand up and let everyone see you." Harry and Charles stood, bowed, and sat back down. "As you can see, both have already been sorted into Gryffindor. Aries was schooled by his parents at his home in London, and Charles comes to us from America, where he studied at the Salem Institute. Please make them feel welcome as they spend their last year of schooling here at Hogwarts. Now, there is only one thing to say: Tuck in!"

Food suddenly appeared on the tables and a delighted murmur rose up from the student body. Aries piled his plate with all his favorite Hogwarts dishes and proceeded stuffing himself silly.

"Hungry?" Sirius asked mildly, an amused twist to his lips.

"A bit," Aries admitted, smiling self-deprecatingly.

"So you two are both seventh years?" Peter asked. Harry's jaw clenched around his bite of chicken.

"Yep, are you guys seventh years too?" Charles answered for him.

"We are," said James. "My name's James Potter, I'm Head Boy, this is Lily Evans, she's Head Girl, as well as one of the most fabulous people you'll ever meet." Lily blinked in surprise, but James pretended not to notice. "You've already met Remus and Sirius, and the great lump on your left is Peter Pettigrew."

"Nice to meet you," Aries murmured, fixing his gaze on his plate alone.

Charles chatted amiable with the Marauders throughout the meal, even making eyes at Lily, then laughing uproariously when James elbowed him for it. Aries didn't speak at all, beyond a polite "Fine, thanks" when Remus asked him if he was alright. The werewolf didn't look like he believed him, but was prevented from asking further questions by Sirius hooting loudly at some joke Charles had made. Soon after, Aries excused himself and slipped, unnoticed, from the Great Hall. At times like this he fervently thanked his time with the Dursleys for giving him the ability to slip into the background.

He'd spent the last week practically locked in Gryffindor tower, and didn't particularly feel like running there now. Instead, he took the deserted corridors to the library. At the far corner was a darkened section he wasn't sure Madam Pince even knew about. Mostly it was wizarding novels, but, if you knew what to look for, there were also obscure books on the Dark Arts, especially Parseltongue. They were denoted with a green dot on the top of the spine that, if one looked close enough, turned out to be a coiled up snake.

Aries was glad the books were still there and quickly settled down in the corner with his favorite – a book where all the characters but one were snakes, and the human was a young Parselmouth. It reminded him rather of himself, as the villain was a basilisk. It wasn't written by a Parselmouth, so there were a few minor errors, but Aries was quite willing to overlook them and simply enjoy the story.

He was halfway through the fifth chapter when a shadow fell over the pages, obscuring the words. Aries looked up to see one Severus Snape glaring at him.

_Well, if it isn't the triple-crossing traitor himself_, his mind sneered, but he caught himself. In Dumbledore's will, Harry had been left a letter from the headmaster that said only one thing concerning Snape: _Forgive him_. Aries was honest enough with himself that he knew he hadn't quite managed it yet, but he could at least act like he had.

"What are you doing in Salazar's Corner, Gryffindor?" the Slytherin sneered.

"Reading," Aries deadpanned. When Snape simply continued to glare at him he sighed. "Honestly, does _everything_ with you people have to do with house rivalries?" he muttered, before responding, "My father was a Slytherin, I'll have you know, and he told me that this corner of the library has a few…interesting books in it. He was quite correct; I'm truly enjoying Forked Tongue of Silver."

Snape's eyebrows had shot up in shock when Aries mentioned his 'father's house and he sat down heavily in the closest armchair upon hearing the title of the book.

"That…is my favorite," he admitted.

"Really?" Aries asked, intrigued. He wouldn't have expected the younger version of Mr. Slimy-Greasy-Death-Eater-Git to like something as simple as a novel. Perhaps the fact that it was all about Parseltongue intrigued him. "I think it might be mine as well, though it's not entirely accurate."

"Indeed," Severus agreed eagerly. "I read The Art of the Serpent by Anne Konta, who actually _was_ a Parselmouth, and she says that snakes care nothing for the affairs of humans and very little for the affairs of other snakes; the notion of one snake trying to rule all others is perfectly ridiculous."

"True, but she also talks about how Basilisks are recognized by all snakes as perversions, perhaps the only intrinsically evil serpent," Aries added, becoming thoroughly engrossed in the conversation. "It is that mention that leads me to believe Barnum Adder, the author of Forked Tongue of Silver, actually read Konta's book and simply disregarded those facts which didn't fit, trusting his informed readers to suspend disbelief."

"Or perhaps trusting that the majority of his audience wouldn't be 'informed'," Severus added slyly, smirking lightly.

They continued to talk for almost two more hours, until Aries thought to glance at his watch and realized it was nearly curfew. Cursing he stood up.

"It's been really great talking with you, Severus," he admitted as he returned the book to its proper place. "See you in classes?"

"Indeed," Severus answered genially, tipping his head in farewell.

Aries walked up to Gryffindor tower with a bounce in his step. He was thoroughly shocked to find that he had honestly enjoyed his time talking with the future Death Eater. He even felt like he could face his dorm mates without breaking down, now. Odd, really, considering he had broken down more in front of Professor Snape than anyone else, during his Occlumency lessons. He decided he would note it in his journal to look into later, as he felt far too tired to do any soul-searching at the moment. At least he knew better, now, than to simply push all his feelings away unexamined. That was the most valuable lesson he had garnered from Occlumency; unexamined feelings mean you can be caught unawares by your own reactions and betray yourself.

Shaking his head, Aries spoke the summer password to the Pink Lady, knowing the prefects wouldn't have a chance to change it at least until tomorrow. It swung open to an empty common room – probably the only night of the school year this would be so, as each group of dorm mates would be busy unpacking reacquainting themselves with their friends and beds. Up in the seventh year boys' dorm, he was met with an outpouring of worried greetings.

"Oi, Aries mate, where've you been?" Sirius slurred around a chocolate frog.

"Yeah, what did you go running off for?" James asked, sounding almost put out.

"I'm sorry if we offended you," Remus offered. Charles and Peter were both quiet.

"I was reading in the library," Aries answered quietly, "I didn't run off because you offended me, I'm sorry if that's what it looked like." He deliberately dodged the second question, having not come up with a better lie than having 'social issues', but unwilling to embarrass himself by claiming such.

"Told you guys not to worry," said Charles triumphantly. "I swear, only a week spent here and Aries already knows every nook and cranny of this place, while I still get lost on the way to the Great Hall."

Sirius and James shared a look that said 'Not every cranny I bet'. Aries smirked to himself with the knowledge that he knew even more than they did, if you included the Chamber of Secrets.

"What were you reading about?" Remus asked, a bookworm just like his future self.

"Nothing for school," Aries admitted casually, "just a couple novels in Salazar's Corner."

"Salazar's _what_!" Sirius exclaimed, at the same time James said,

"Salazar _Slytherin_!" and Remus said,

"Is that where all the Slytherins hang out?"

Aries blinked rapidly at this onslaught, though he quite expected it and had been going for shock value at the time.

"Salazar's Corner," he answered, trying to get them in order, "I would assume Salazar Slytherin, and I can only guess if those of Slytherin house hang out there. Why?"

He noticed Charles watching him intently, as though Aries were a potion that had started bubbling when he was supposed to be cooling and he, Charles, were trying to figure him out. Aries returned the gaze and winked, turning his head so only Charles could see.

Sirius sighed, a sound full of wearied exasperation.

"Look, I know you haven't been here among the students for more than a few hours," he said, in a tone that suggested he was trying to be patient while talking to a moron, "but here at Hogwarts Gryffindors don't go where Slytherins go and Slytherins don't go where Gryffindors go."

"Why not?" Aries asked obliviously, "I mean, my dad was a Slytherin, am I supposed to not go home? And some of the books there looked really interesting, it would be a shame not to read them just because I'm not in the right house."

James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter all gasped.

"Now you listen here," James said sternly, "Slytherin is in no means the 'right house'. They are evil, dark wizards the lot of them, worst of the worst. You've heard of Death Eaters, right?" Aries nodded. "Well every last Death Eater is a former Slytherin. The dark lord himself was a Slytherin. I don't know what sort of 'interesting' books you thought you saw, but if they're there for the Slytherins, they must be dark magic."

Aries raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, choosing not to push it any further. There were so many ways he could shock them even more, though, and it was certainly tempting – telling them he'd been reading a book on Parseltongue, that he'd chatted about said book with Severus 'Snivellus' Snape – but he wasn't sure they could take any more without throwing him out. He didn't think they'd even registered what he'd mentioned about his 'dad' being in Slytherin.

As he got in his pajamas and started to slip into bed, he noticed writing on his sheets in a familiar, elegant scrawl.

_What are you on about?_

Figuring Charles was waiting for a reply, he pulled out his wand, and waved it toward the other boy's bed, making the words _Testing the waters_ appear in his own handwriting on Charles' sheets before pulling the covers up to his chin. Soon after, he was sound asleep.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The next day dawned both rainy and sunny. The clouds moving in from the West had barely arrived, leaving plenty of Eastern sky clear for the sun to shine through, but had decided to empty their apparently weighty load on Hogwarts prematurely. The effect was rather distracting, and Aries eventually had to turn his back to the window to get dressed before another half hour passed without his notice. None of the other boys were speaking to him, and it wasn't hard for him to discern why.

Sirius and James were still sore about last nights talk.

Peter was copying James.

Charles had been wrong-footed by Aries' display and so was taking the safe route by waiting to see what happened.

Remus…Aries looked around. Remus was already at breakfast.

Aries feigned ignorance of the attitudes around him and packed his back with three notebooks, two quills, and a bottle of black ink. His wand he slipped in a wrist holster he'd been lucky enough to have on him for the trip.

The inside was made of softest thestrals skin, nearly indestructible despite it's flimsy appearance and near weightlessness, and on the back, covering the bony part of his forearm, was a guard made from a single dragon scale, with straps for up to three small potions vials, two of which Aries' had filled with his favorite potions while one was left empty. The whole holster was charmed with a powerful protection spell that, since it was absorbed by the skins, was nearly undetectable. Other spells could be added, and it could even be steeped in certain types of potions to make it stronger, according to the wishes of the user. This had been thoroughly charmed and personalized to Harry's heart's content.

Unable to think of anything else he might need on the first day, Aries slung his bag over his shoulder and headed off to the Great Hall with a plastered smile on his face.

Despite it already being past 8:00, Aries was still one of the first to breakfast. Most of the students probably wouldn't be up and ready for breakfast until it was almost time for class, still used to sleeping in over the summer. Remus and Lily were two of only five Gryffindors already there, and Severus made up half the Slytherin table, the other half being a distracted-looking fourth year. Making a decision, Aries walked cheerfully up to the seat next to Remus, turned, and smiled at Severus, calling out, "Good morning!"

Severus got a distinct deer-in-headlights look for a moment, then glanced around him rather frantically before waving jerkily back. Aries smiled brighter and sat.

"And a good morning to you, Remus, and the dear Head Girl," he said, spearing a sausage link off the nearest platter with his fork.

"Umm, yeah, same to you," said Remus, looking at him like he'd grown two heads. Lily, who had her back to the Slytherin table and so had missed the whole seen, smiled and nodded politely, then returned to her book. Remus leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "Did you completely forget what James and Sirius told you last night? Or do you just have a death wish?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Aries assured him. "I just don't understand this silly 'all Slytherins are evil' mentality, and I refuse to adhere to what I don't understand. If no one can be bothered to explain it, I won't be bothered to obey it."

Lily, despite not being nosy or a busybody, was sitting right across from them and consequently heard the four loudest words either of them spoke, which, quite unfortunately, happened to be the 'All Slytherins are evil' comment. She set down her book and leveled him with an icy stare.

"I don't believe it," she sneered, "one night with those four and you're already prejudiced and bigoted against a quarter of the school. 'All Slytherins are evil' indeed; how is that any different from saying 'all muggle-borns are worthless'? I'm disappointed, I thought maybe you were different. I can see I was wrong."

And without sparing him another glance, she slung her bag over her shoulder and stormed out.

"I budda…I wudda…but…huh?" Aries stammered, completely confused by this very misdirected speech. "What's _her_ problem?" he finally forced out.

Remus smiled in amusement, but hid it and said nothing as the doors opened and the rest of the Marauders and Charles all walked in. They seated themselves next to or across from their friend, ignoring Aries for the most part. The silence was broken by Sirius.

"So, Slytherin-Lover, had a chance to think over what we said last night?" he asked casually, buttering a muffin.

Aries slammed his fork down, grabbed his bag and stalked off without responding, for fear that if he did it would end up as a shouting match. He nearly ran into Professor McGonagall as he stormed through the entryway, but they both stopped short just in time.

"Ah, Mr. Hesuchazo, prefect timing," she exclaimed, rifling through a pile of small papers. She handed him one with his name on it. "Your schedule. If you need any help finding your way just ask a fellow Gryffindor."

"Right," Aries replied, masking his sarcasm well, "I'll be sure to do that."

She smiled obliviously at him and left, entering the Great Hall to disperse the rest of the schedules.

Aries looked at his curiously. It was a typical NEWT level schedule, with no more than two classes per day, but each class double.

Monday was Potions, lunch, Ancient Runes; Tuesday, Transfiguration, lunch, free period; Wednesday, a free period, lunch, Arithmancy; Thursday was all free; Friday, Charms, lunch, and finally Defense.

At least he already knew where the potions classroom was. Running back up to Gryffindor Tower to get his cauldron, he found another note on his sheets.

_Stop trying to make waves, you bloody git._

Aries smirked. Charles had no idea what he was doing.

_Not making waves_, he replied. _Getting thrown overboard._

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: As you can see, I'm still having Aries make friends with Snape; to those of you who don't think this fits with HBP canon, I stick my tongue out at you thusly: XP**


	3. Classes, Maps, and Long Talks

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here

**Summary:** More of the same.

**A/N: **Huh, I guess I don't really have anything to say.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter Three: Classes, Maps, and Long Talks

All NEWT classes contained students from every house, and still the numbers were less than a score. NEWT potions had an impressive total of fourteen. Severus was the only Slytherin; Aries, Charles, Sirius, James, Lily and one of Lily's dorm mates were the Gryffindors; and the class was rounded out with one Hufflepuff and six Ravenclaws. By the time Aries arrived the only seat left was next to Snape, which could just as easily have been purposeful as an accident. The question of which was answered as he sat down and heard Sirius mutter to Charles.

"Now he'll see how bad Slytherins are. If anyone can show him that, Snivellus can."

Aries made a face at him behind his back.

"I trust you had an…interesting night explaining why you were so late?" Severus asked with clear amusement.

"Oh shut up," Aries grumbled playfully. "You could have warned me not to tell them anything, you know. I had to endure a lecture on why Slytherins were all evil and Gryffindors Did Not Associate with them. And I hadn't even gotten to the part where you showed up!"

"I'm not surprised," Severus quipped, "if you had mentioned me with anything less than disdain either you or those despicable Marauders would be in the hospital wing. Gryffindors have been against Salazar's Corner ever since Dumbledore brought it back, saying it's full of evil and will corrupt any student who reads there." The last phrase was said in a high-pitched voice, meant to imitate Professor McGonagall, that was simply ridiculous. Aries covered his laughter with a cough when Sirius turned to glare at him.

There may have been a row, but at that moment the door opened and a slightly younger, not quite as fat version of Professor Slughorn strode in. The class turned out to be almost exactly like his first potions class of sixth year, except instead of Hermione answering all the questions, Severus and Lily traded off. Slughorn called on Lily more often than not, though, which Aries thought was curious since Slughorn was head of Slytherin house during this time.

When the professor called for them to open their books to page ten and make the Draft of Living Death, Aries remembered with a start that Snape's book was the same one he would use. He had already made a few scribbles in it, even. Not nearly as many as there had been in Harry's time, but a few. This time around, Aries followed the instructions exactly, ending up with an average potion to those of the rest of the class. Sev had managed to make his perfectly, but according to Slughorn, Lily had made hers faster, so she got the vial of Felix Felicis. Aries wondered what she would us it on, and if things would go differently if she used it that Halloween. Then he shook his head and mourned the fact that he would never know.

While Slughorn was occupied praising Lily loudly to the rest of the class, Aries saw Sev slip a second vial out of his robe pocket and scoop out some of his potion. Aries surreptitiously glanced around to make sure no one was looking their way – most of the class was looking mournfully at their cauldrons – then slipped the empty vial from his arm holster into his hand and passed it to Sev. The Slytherin raised an eyebrow at him, but Aries just winked. One never knew when a dose of Sleeping Death might come in handy. The bell signaling the end of class rang just at Sev handed the full vial back.

Aries turned to gather up his things and leave when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder.

"Stealing from a classmate, Mr. Hesuchazo?" Slughorn demanded.

"Sir –" Sev began, but the professor cut him off.

"That will be all, Mr. Snape; you may leave."

Apparently, Sev's sense of self preservation only let him stick his neck out so far. At Slughorn's glare, the boy begrudgingly left, not meeting Aries' eyes.

"Now, Mr. Hesuchazo, I want you to hand over the potion, along with any others you may be carrying around with you. Ten points will be taken from Gryffindor as this is the first offense, but if I ever see you stealing potions again, the penalty will be far worse. Now, hand it over."

Aries glumly passed the vial to him, then blinked as Professor Slughorn seemed to expect more.

"You don't think I'd believe that's the only potion you have on you," the walrus-like man sneered. "_Accio Potions_!"

The two full vials leapt from Aries' arm holster to Slughorn's hand. The professor brought them to eye level and examined the contents.

"Polyjuice," he declared after the first one. "I guess I'll need to keep an eye on you; I never noticed you by table three."

"But I didn't –" Aries tried to protest.

"And Caveo Veles!" Slughorn exclaimed, cutting him off. "I can't say that I know how you got this, but I'll have to confiscate it I'm afraid."

"But I made that myself!" Aries protested, aghast.

He kept the Polyjuice potion on him in case of kidnapping, but Caveo Veles was useful in almost any wartime situation. It was a polish to use on light weaponry to make it nearly indestructible and much sharper, but more than three weapons doused in it couldn't be kept close together or they would cancel each other out and become completely ineffective, hence the name. Caveo Veles, beware the light armed troops. Aries remembered brewing it the summer after fifth year when Auror Shacklebolt had been giving him lessons on armed combat, fencing, archery and the like. The auror hadn't known what had hit him when he'd found his sword two feet shorter after what had clearly been a light swing on Harry's part.

"I highly doubt you made such a complex potion on your own," Slughorn said condescendingly, glancing at Aries' cauldron of sub-standard Sleeping Death. "That'll be twenty more points for stealing two more potions, and a week of detention with Filch for lying to a teacher. Now, off with you!"

Aries glared, but kept his mouth shut and stormed off. This was not turning out to be a good day. On the bright side, he wouldn't have to worry about staying out of the Slug Club; it didn't seem like he could get in now if he levitated himself wandlessly while shooting golden eggs out of his mouth.

To calm himself, he pulled out his schedule and tried to plan the best way to Ancient Runes, which would come after lunch. That was in room 8 on the fifth floor, so he would need to use the passage at the West end of the second floor, right off the stairways, the one behind the Gothic door with reliefs of Linwood the Lucky's many mishaps. Of course, that was always assuming the stairs were cooperating, otherwise –

Aries thoughts were cut off as he was rudely shoved from behind, his bag snatched off his shoulder and its contents thrown to the floor. He looked up, startled into James Potter's laughing face. Harry watched, frozen, as James pulled his wand and shot a spell at him, turning his robes green with silver polka-dots. As he stared at his father's retreating back, Harry was suddenly faced with all the drawbacks of his plan; a rather uncomfortable feeling at the best of times.

Charles came along moments later, just as he finished repacking his bag, and dragged him by his cloak into a nearby empty hallway.

"That's it, I'm sick of this," he hissed. "Tell me what you're up to, now Potter."

"Aries," Harry corrected automatically. "And it's a long story and I'm hungry. Can we go to lunch first?" Charles glared at him. "Alright, fine. I'll explain everything tonight. It's a full moon, so our roommates won't be there. Deal?"

"Fine, but if you forget or decide to weasel out, I'll come after you, you know I will," Charles promised. Aries rolled his eyes.

"Very friendly of you, Higgins. Now I'm heading to the Great Hall, if you don't mind. I'm starving."

The meal was a tense affair as Charles started to sit across from Aries, as was his custom, but James and Sirius pulled him away and over to where they were sitting. A good ways away from Aries. The isolated seventh year ate in silence, going over everything he'd learned that summer about Ancient Runes and hoping he wouldn't make a fool of himself. He didn't noticed the strange looks and strangled laughs (and not so strangled in the case of the marauders and a few Slytherins) he was getting for his 'improved' robes.

Luckily, on his way out, he happened to glance down and, red rising in his cheeks, quickly changed his robe back to black.

Ancient Runes was worse than he had feared. One week of frantic studying had barely made a dent in the vast amount of knowledge he was expected to know. Professor Jera went through the same doomsday speech Aries recognized from his OWL year professors, though he was a little more supportive about it, and then started on the lesson. Aries took frantic notes, copying down every word the man said so he could decipher it later, when he actually understood more than half the words he was writing.

It was horribly frustrating. He knew he would need help to even begin catching up, but his only friend (though it made him cringe to admit it) was Severus, who didn't take Ancient Runes. As a matter of fact, the only people in the class he did know were Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin. Pettigrew he wouldn't ask for help if his life depended on it; well, perhaps then, but not before, and his life _certainly_ didn't depend on Ancient Runes. Remus...he had his reasons for not asking Remus.

So instead, he struggled through the first class as best he could and tried not to look forward to seeing Charles too much.

Had he not been so tired, Aries might have avoided the Great Hall altogether and instead eaten in the kitchens, but as he concentrated on rubbing the soreness out of his writing arm, his legs walked him straight up to his usual spot at the Gryffindor table. The moment he sat down, he realized that everyone was staring at him. Well, he amended mentally, not everyone, just a good number of Gryffindors, but it was still highly uncomfortable. He forced down barely half his plate of food before heading for the Gryffindor dorms.

This was going to wear him down fast, he could feel it. Being trapped in such a familiar place with no one to talk to, half-familiar faces with unfamiliar attitudes, and the one all-too familiar attitude. He took out his journal and wrote down everything that had happened during the day; the book was probably all that was keeping him sane. He hadn't really thought about it during the last week, when Charles was being almost nice and there weren't crowds of noisy, ignorant, and oft times cruel children suffocating him, but he missed Ron and Hermione. True, he hadn't talked to them about his feelings and the things that were bothering him in his own time, but they had been there, offering silent support, which was a good deal more than he had now.

He found himself yet again looking forward to the meeting with Charles. Since the students had arrived, the other boy had been mostly avoiding him, but on the rare occasion they did have to exchange words, he was acting more like the Malfoy he had been in the future than the Charles Higgins Aries had actually grown to think of as a friend.

Thoughts of the meeting turned to thoughts of the full moon and his father and friends' nighttime revelry. They would probably sneak out under the invisibility cloak, using the Marauder's Map to keep from getting caught.

Harry cursed loudly.

The Map! With a single glance it could completely give him and Charles away as imposters. Checking his watch he found, to his relief, that dinner wouldn't end for another fifteen minutes, and he had heard Remus asking the others to help him with some research in the library afterwards, so he had some time. First he had to find it. He searched first in his father's trunk, but it wasn't there, and he wasted a good ten minutes just staring at his things. Next came Sirius', but it wasn't there either. Finally, after almost twenty minutes of searching, he found the folded up parchment in Remus' trunk. Thinking fast, he wrote a note to the werewolf about having to borrow some parchment and took the map. Activating it, he searched for Filch and found the old caretaker by the broom sheds at the Quidditch pitch.

Aries wiped the map and ran, arriving at the sheds not five minutes later. Holding the parchment in one hand and his wand in the other, he put on his shiftiest look and made as if to unlock the doors.

"What do you think you're doing, eh?" Filch snarled, coming around from the other side.

Aries jumped and glanced around nervously. "No-nothing," he stammered. "I was just looking."

"And what's that, then?" Filch pointed at the map and Aries made as if to hide it.

"J-just a spare bit of parchment."

Filch obviously didn't believe him and promptly confiscated the map and sent Aries off with a warning. The plan had gone absolutely perfect. He was careful to sulk until he was out of sight, then ran back to the dorms. With any luck, the Marauders would have to contain their anger so it didn't seem suspicious that they were overreacting about one sheet of parchment.

That night, he pretended to be asleep while three of the four closely knit friends walked in.

"We need the cloak, I'll grab that," he heard James whisper. "Padfoot, you get the map, 'kay?"

"Where is it?" Sirius asked. "Who had it last?"

"I think Moony did, check in his trunk," James answered, shuffling around his own.

More shuffling sounds came from over by Remus' bed, then a muffled curse and the soft glow of wand light. Louder, more vigorous curses.

"That little prat!" Sirius hissed. "He took our map!"

"What!" James and Peter exclaimed in unison.

"That Hesuchazo kid, he 'borrowed' some parchment from Moony and took our map!"

More cursing, more rustling, someone peeked in his curtains.

"He's still asleep, what do we do?" Aries turned the snarl at hearing Peter's voice into a snore for emphasis.

"We can't just wake him up and demand a random bit of parchment," James sighed exasperatedly. "That'd seem a might fishy, don't you think? We'll just have to do as we did before the map. At least we still have the cloak, eh?" Disgruntled muttering, probably from Sirius. "Look, we'll get Moony to ask him about it later. What's the worst that could happen?"

"Don't say that, Prongs," Peter said tremulously, "You'll jinx it!"

Muffled laughter, then the door shut and they were gone.

Not ten seconds later, Aries' curtains were ripped open and he was subjected to wand light at full glow.

"You'd better explain and you'd better explain now," Charles demanded. Aries sighed and stretched, using one hand to shield his eyes.

"Explain which bit?" he asked, then shook his head. "How about we play twenty questions, eh? You ask, I'll tell, so long as you swear on your life not to use it against anyone. Alright?"

Charles eyed him appraisingly. "Fair enough," he said finally. "Just twenty?"

"Well, not really," Aries said, rolling his eyes. "Twenty questions is the name of a muggle game. What I meant is, I'm not going to try to guess just what you want to know, so you'll just ask. Now go."

Charles smirked. "Thought we already had," he muttered under his breath. "First things first, what map?"

"The Marauders Map," Aries answered. "Those four made it – I don't know when – but it shows the whole of Hogwarts, including most of the secret passages, with a little dot and nametag for everyone in it. If they'd looked on it tonight, they'd see our real names, so I stole it and let Filch confiscate it."

"Very Slytherin of you," Charles said, smirking approvingly. "So now, where are they going and what are they going to be doing there?"

Aries blew air out through his teeth. "They're going to the Shrieking Shack, where they're going to meet up with Remus Lupin to go play in the Forbidden Forest as animagi. Yes, they're _all_ animagi, and have been since they were fifteen."

Charles narrowed his eyes. "Are _you_ an animagus?"

"No," Aries answered shortly. His bed dipped as Charles sat on it.

"You're lying."

"No I'm not."

"Then you're telling a half truth!" Charles slammed a fist on the mattress, creating a rather unsatisfying WHUMPH. "Can you change into an animal at will?"

Aries sighed. He _had_ said he'd answer, and Charles _had_ agreed not to use it against him. Hadn't he? The Gryffindor quickly reviewed the start of the conversation.

"Give me your word first," he said aloud, turning over to face the other boy.

"What? What about?" Charles asked, sounding shifty.

"Give me your word that you won't use what I have told you or what I will tell you against me, the marauders, or anyone else, and I'll answer your question," Aries said. "You made it sound like you'd promised, but you never said it. I need your word."

"Fine, fine," Charles made a disgusted noise. "Trust _you _to finally have the brains to catch that just when I get the chance to use it on you. You have my word that I will not use any information you give me in the course of this conversation to the detriment of anyone else. I reserve the right to use it for my own benefit."

Aries dipped his head in agreement and lay back down. "Do you know the incantation for the spell to become an animagus?"

"Primus Animagi, why?"

"The Primus Animagi spell allows someone to take the form of a creature that matches both their power and their personality. However, for some, this spell is too difficult or the creature is too huge or exotic for practical use. So, a second spell was created. Minimus Animagi. It allows the caster to turn him or herself into a creature of their choice, non-magical and of domestic variety. This is why McGonagall, though powerful, has a cat as her form. I imagine her real form, if she has ever even bothered to manage it, is something far less suitable to teaching demonstrations and nighttime patrols."

"So I take it you used this spell?" Charles asked. Aries nodded. "Well, what are you then, and what would your prime animagus form be?"

"I'm a little black cat," Aries answered, then took another deep breath. "And it's a Gryffera, a one-time-only cross between a chimera and a griffin." There was silence from Charles' end as the redhead absorbed this information. "Mind you, I haven't managed it yet, but –"

"Would you teach me the Minimus Animagi spell?" Charles asked, cutting off the last half of Aries' sentence.

"Er…yeah, if you'd like. You realize it is illegal, don't you?"

Charles waved his hand dismissively. "Like they can arrest someone who doesn't exist. In any case, we'll get to that later. Now, what I came here for in the first place. Why are you antagonizing every Gryffindor in sight and trying to make nice with Snape? I know you hate him."

Aries took a moment to make himself comfortable before answering. He'd been trying to gather his thoughts for this since dinner. "I can't handle it," he began. "I can't handle being here, and having my parents here, and not being able to be close to them. If I were even on semi-good terms with them, I don't think I could help blurting out something to change the past. Future. But at the same time, I don't want to be the one to push them away. It's complicated, and my reasoning was sort of spur of the moment, but basically, if I can get them to not like me enough that they actively avoid civil conversation, then I'm safe. You see?"

Charles nodded. "And what about Snape?"

Aries puffed out a breath of air. This was where it got complicated. "I don't really know what to think of him. I mean, he killed Professor Dumbledore, but he was under the Unbreakable Vow, and Dumbledore never stopped believing in him, not even in his will. But he's a bloody stinking Death Eater!"

"Well so am I!" Charles retorted, baring the mark on his left arm. Aries winced. "You don't seem to have all that great a problem with me. And I'll have you know that Severus Snape is a good man. He's got a bit of a temper and can hold a grudge like I've never seen, but he's loyal to his own."

"Yeah, it's just too bad 'his own' includes Voldemort," Aries muttered bitterly. This was something he'd been attempting not to struggle with since he'd first spoken to Snape in the library. Now that it was all being brought to the front it was making him angry; at Snape and himself. How could he even think of being friends with that evil, murdering, slimy, greasy…

_Forgive him._ Dumbledore's words resonated in his head again.

"I dunno," he finally sighed, weary of the whole argument. "I guess I'll just…keep being his friend as long as he's mine and see what happens."

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: Err…Still don't have anything to say. Thanks for reading?**

**PANTZ - Emerson**


	4. Classes and Learning

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary:** More of the same.

**A/N:** Just one little thing here. One reviewer asked how Aries knew about the Unbreakable Vow. If you remember, in chapter 15 of the Half Blood Prince, Harry overhears Snape talking to Malfoy about the Unbreakable Vow. I will admit he probably doesn't know everything about the exact vow Snape made, but he's smart enough o figure out from what happened that Sev had to either kill Dumbledore or die. At least, in my opinion. That's all I have to say.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter Four: Classes and Learning, though not at the same time  


The next few weeks were stressful for Aries, but mostly in the normal school way. He was still having vast amounts of trouble in Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy wasn't much better. Charles took Arithmancy, though, and had condescended to tutor Aries when the other boy asked. Professor Vector – now fresh out of uni – had offered her assistance as well, but the sidelong, measuring glances she shot at him freaked him out quite thoroughly enough to reject. Professors McGonagall and Flitwik didn't seem to have changed in the slightest, which was comforting, and he was doing quite well in their classes. However, last period on Fridays were a problem.

The defense professor hated him.

Aries had been up most of the night before the first defense class because of bad dreams – not Voldemort induced, thankfully, but horrific nightmares nonetheless – and had already had to endure a mind numbing charms lesson. After the prerequisite NEWT scare speech, Flitwik had introduced the topic – Apparition Theory.

Despite the fact that almost all 7th years had their license, Apparition had only recently been added to the NEWT curriculum and so was considered material for that year. Aries, beyond having studied it during his 6th year, had found the subject fascinating and wrote his summer thesis on instantaneous magical transportation, specifically the seven types of portkey, floo, apparition and disapparition. He forced himself to pay attention anyway, if only to earn a few points for correct answers.

Q: "What is unique about Apparition that differs from other instantaneous forms of transportation, like the portkey?"

A: "Unlike Extra-Dimensional Time/Space accessed during Portkey and, to a lesser extent, floo travel, apparition creates a temporary tunnel in Real-Space combining it with a spell allowing the witch or wizard to pass through the intermediary matter."

Twenty points to Gryffindor, in the bag.

Q: "What are the pros and cons of this form of travel?"

A: "Because it lacks the transition time through EDTS, apparition is truly instantaneous, both to the witch or wizard apparating and to any observers. However, the complex nature of the passage through matter allows for dangers such as splinching and misdirection."

Another twenty points, and a few impressed and/or jealous looks from the Ravenclaws.

As it was only the introduction to theory class, Professor Flitwik didn't introduce a single fact that Aries didn't already know, and actually taught a few incorrect theories that had yet to be disproved. He had to bite his lip to keep from correcting him and was entirely exhausted by the time defense rolled around. As a consequence, as soon as Professor Perkins started with, "As you know, this is your NEWT year, so we will be working harder this year then ever before," Aries put his forehead on his palm, his elbow on the desk, and fell asleep.

About half an hour later, he was snapped awake by a sharp rap on the back of his head. He looked up to see Perkins holding his wand in a white-knuckle grip and glaring.

"Since this class seems to _bore_ you so much, Mr. Hesuchazo, perhaps you would like to demonstrate a proper barrier ward, hmm?" the professor suggested, looking as if he would gladly test the ward with an unforgivable or two.

"If you insist, professor," Aries said, sounding wary. And for good reason, the last time he had done a barrier ward he had ended up the only thing left standing in a twenty-foot radius. Bill had called that 'good enough to be going on with' and continued to the next topic. "Should I Specify it?"

"Just Solid for now, thank you," Perkins sneered. He obviously doubted Aries even knew _how_ to specify a ward.

The sleepy brunette nodded and walked to the front of the class, deciding as he went that he would try to visualize the wand as a spigot, letting only a thin amount of his magic out. He started the spell in front of him, like he'd been taught, and extended it in a sphere until he was firmly encased in a magical bubble. This globe had a radius of three feet, but kept inching outward. In order to stop it, Aries tied the magic of his ward to that of the castle's stone floor and cut it off, leaving himself in a 7-foot diameter safety-zone. Any with proper magic sense could tell it was there, of course, but most 7th years hadn't developed that yet, and might never do so, and the ward-threads that made up the bubble were invisible to the naked eye.

"Mr. Hesuchazo has already demonstrated improper technique," Perkins drawled from in front of his desk. "In forming a ward around one's person, it is always best to start from the top, so that your magic may flow _downward_."

Oh yeah. Aries had forgotten that, in the 70's, wizards were still under the assumption that magic was affected by gravity.

"Now, the only way to properly test a barrier ward is to attempt to destroy it, so you may all take turns throwing these cushions at your fellow-student. Do _try_ not to harm him."

Aries sighed as the decorative pillows started flying, an alarming number directed at his head. This was getting dull, and he was annoyed at Professor Perkins, so he sat himself cross-legged on the floor, propped his head on his arm again, and went back to sleep.

Perkins' eyes bulged as he watched the display. How _dare_ a child act with such impertinence toward a professor! He motioned for the students – now mostly just the Marauders – to cease their target-practice and sent a mild shock spell at the sleeping student. It stopped a good two feet away and fizzled into nothing. For the next half-hour, the class was entertained by the sight of their enraged professor sending progressively more dangerous hexes at the bubble.

The student inside was already awake. At the first disturbance of spell-on-spell, Aries' magic had wobbled, reaching to him again as if for reassurance. He had tied the ward-threads back to his person to keep track of the attack, but maintained the illusion of sleep until Perkins seemed on the verge of using illegal hexes. He mimed stretching from a nap and cut the magic off altogether just as a mild pain spell was sent flying. Because he had started the ward in front of him, however, that spot was the last to unravel; Aries was already stepping off the dais when the orange-purple jinx sparked against the last vestiges of the barrier.

"Hesuchazo!" Perkins barked as the bell signaled class' end. "Ten points from Gryffindor and another week's detention with Filch for falling asleep in class!"

"Yes Professor Perkins," Aries said, stifling a yawn as he left the room.

He had to wonder if this would make it the seventh year in a row where the defense professor attempted to kill, maim, or otherwise harm him in some way, shape or form. The Moony thing only counted for consistency's sake.

In any case, after five weeks and five classes, Professor Perkins hadn't gotten any more amiable. Though Aries was no longer falling asleep in class, he was often called to the front to demonstrate the effect of some curse or other. While he allowed himself to be used as an example, Aries never left the hex on for more than a couple of seconds, as he knew almost all counter-curses wandless and speechless – thus defeating the professor's attempt at a longer demonstration by cursing him mute first.

All in all, it made him want to start up the DA again, just so he could learn something new in practice. He was duly shocked, therefore, when Charles suggested that very same thing.

"Start up a defense club?" Aries gawked when the subject came up.

"Not a club," Charles sighed, sounding very put-upon, "just private study. You, me…Sev, if he's agreeable. Just so we can actually _learn_ new stuff."

Aries shrugged, finishing the last sentence of his transfiguration essay. It was almost verbatim to one he had written during second term of sixth year.

"Oh come on, you know you want to," Charles continued, sounding like a ten year old. "We can even use the same room you used before, if you like it so much."

With a sigh, Aries dried the ink on his parchment and rolled it up, then looked through his fringe at Charles, who was doing a passable imitation of a puppy.

"All right, I'll do it," he consented with a laugh. "And I'll ask Sev along, too. How about we meet on the seventh floor corridor Saturday after lunch?"

Charles stared at him like he'd grown another head that was reciting obscure French poetry.

"What?" he asked finally, when the staring became too much.

Charles blinked before answering. "Quidditch tryouts for Gryffindor are Saturday," he said softly. "I just…assumed you would be going out for seeker or something."

"Oh," Aries replied dumbly. He hadn't really taken Quidditch into consideration, since Dumbledore had never gotten his lifetime ban removed; Harry wouldn't have had time with it along with all his training anyway. But here, Aries didn't have to train, and there was no ban. There were, in fact, no reasons for him not to try out, or even to go pro with it. He sat his chin on one hand to think, not noticing as Charles silently got up and left.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Charles sighed as he walked up to the dormitory. He had only meant to ask for some help with private study, not break Aries' brain. But from the way the other boy had been frowning at the tabletop, it would be a little while before he got another answer. So he got out the library book on advanced hexes – one he was not strictly supposed to have, but it wasn't like he was doing anything wrong, like _using_ the hexes – and lay down on his bed to wait.

As interesting as the book was, Charles couldn't help but get bored and lose interest after an hour. It was a Hogsmead weekend, but he and Aries had stayed behind, so they were practically alone in the castle, except for the first and second years, who didn't really count. Charles got up and went to the window, deciding to marvel at the view again. Living down in the dungeons for six years, he hadn't really gotten a chance to view the whole grounds from anywhere but the Quidditch pitch and the Astronomy tower, but the view from Gryffindor was spectacular, looking over the forest and probably the stillest part of the lake.

Everything was different in Gryffindor, really. The view, the decorations – the red and gold were surprisingly muted, giving a feeling of warmth rather than the overwhelming loudness he had assumed – even the people. Especially the people. When you walked into Gryffindor with a frown, people noticed and asked what was wrong, and when you smiled, they smiled back, and when you wanted to just forget about the world and play exploding snap like a first year, there was always someone there to play against. Of course, it wasn't all good. When a Gryffindor was taunted, they immediately got up in arms and looked down on anyone who wasn't. And, as evidenced by the Marauders, when someone in Gryffindor didn't go along with the majority, they were ostracized rather than either taught better or learned from. No wonder Gryffindor and Slytherin didn't get along, they were practically opposites.

Which, yet again, brought him to Aries. How on Earth was it that one person could seem the quintessential Gryffindor, yet, inside, have cunning and strategy worthy of any Slytherin? And, though he hated to admit it, Aries was just as adaptable and resourceful as he, Charles, was. Just look at how quickly they had both gained the exact status they wanted. Charles had immediately befriended his new dorm mates, knowing he would need contacts if he was going to live a good life here. Aries had immediately used the prejudices of those he knew to get them to leave him alone.

But at the same time, when a young Avery ruined Aries' potion by throwing in a single extra kelpie scale, Aries had exploded right with his cauldron and hexed the boy, practically swelling with righteous fury – something only really found in Gryffindors (Hufflepuffs were righteous, and Slytherins and Ravenclaws could do fury, but not both at once). He had gotten a detention for it, while Avery got off without even a lecture, and while it could be that Professor Slughorn thought the tentacle hex – which Aries had later revealed to be a combination _Furunculous_ and jelly-legs – was punishment enough, anyone could see he didn't like Aries. Charles thought it was hilarious that, while making friends with his first hateful potions professor, the boy wonder had somehow managed to get his second to hate him as well.

He shook his head, laughing silently. That sort of luck was typical Potter, and even in a different time and under a different name, he couldn't escape it.

A hand fell on his shoulder, making Charles jump; he turned around to see Aries watching him, amused. The look quickly merged into a sad, regretful smile.

"I won't be going out for Quidditch," he said simply, "the date and time stand, okay?"

Charles nodded and watched, curious, as Aries walked back out.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Saturday found Charles standing anxiously in the darkened seventh floor corridor with a glaring Severus Snape. Aries was nowhere in sight. The silence was stifling. He shifted his weight discreetly from one foot to the other.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the motion caught Snape's eye and the brooding teen glared at him, daring him to say anything so that he could shoot him down and show him just how foolish he was. Funny; Charles hadn't thought Snape would have learned to do that until he started teaching. He closed his mouth and looked away, barely preventing an eye roll that surely would have proved disastrous.

Finally, the sound of running footsteps heralded Aries' arrival. The brunette stopped short, just at the edge of the shadows where Charles and Severus were waiting, and glanced between them. To the bemusement of both, he poked the air in front of him, then drew a small knife out of his sleeve and made a couple of short slicing motions. Small, round, brownish _things_ fell into Aries' waiting hands and he held one out to each of his companions, who stared at the things in bewilderment.

"Congratulations," Aries said with an amused sneer. "Here are your souvenirs from the time you made the tension actually thick enough to cut with a knife."

Severus held his up to the light and examined it, then, without any warning, threw it at Aries, hitting him on the face. Charles followed suit and they all laughed, making the 'tension' slices dissolve into nothing.

"That's better. Now, lets get started."

He paced three times in front of the wall and a door appeared, which led them into a vast, arena-like room. One third was lined with books and had a mat on the floor, one third was full of weigh sets and weapons, and in the center was a dueling arena. The ceiling looked to be about thirty feet above.

"I never knew Hogwarts had a room like this," Severus commented, eyeing the room appreciatively then raising a suspicious look at Aries, who shrugged.

"My dad told me about a Room of Requirement where you pace by the wall three times and concentrate on what you need, and Hogwarts will supply," he lied smoothly. "I got one of the house elves to show me where it is."

Severus nodded thoughtfully, finding the explanation acceptable. Charles wondered how often Aries had to lie to cover things up around his friend.

"First things first," said Aries, shooting a locking charm at the door, "do either of you have any objection to studying spells that aren't…strictly legal?"

Charles shook his head, already knowing where the other youth was going with this, but Severus shrugged ambiguously, a shrewd look on his face. Aries smirked at the Slytherin, taking the shrug to mean 'I have no objection unless you mean to get me into trouble for it'.

"All right, in that case I propose we start out with the Minimus Animagi spell; Charles has already expressed an interest in it. Have you ever heard of it, Sev?"

He shook his head, and Aries quickly explained, then transformed as an example. Charles realized that Aries hadn't been lying when he'd said he was a _small_ black cat. He was probably two thirds the size of a normal cat, and no more than half the size of that orange beast Granger carried around. There was a small mark above his right eyebrow that looked like it could be a lighting shaped scar, but the fur around it covered it fairly well. Aries-the-cat paraded in front of them, head and tail held arrogantly high. With just a bit of a running start, he leapt lightly up to Charles' shoulder, then jumped across a good eight feet to land on Sev's. With a triumphant meow, he dove to the floor and changed back to his human self.

"So you see, the Minimus transformation is just as real and stable as the Primus, it's just a smaller animal, and one that you choose. What do you say, you want to learn it?"

Severus nodded firmly, eyes wide and eager, and Aries led them to the library section where he pulled out two copies of Little and Loving it by Mimi Plush, the only book solely on the Minimus Animagi spell, that just _happened_ to be on the first shelf.

"I think I love this room," Charles muttered as he accepted his copy and sat in one of the chintz armchairs that also just _happened_ to be there, though he was sure they hadn't been before.

Charles and Severus spent the entire afternoon reading, barely looking up from the interesting book (Mimi Plush was surprisingly clever with a wicked sense of humor that belied her flowery name) even when they heard loud crashing or curses from the exercise part of the room, where Aries seemed to be doing his best to make himself horribly sore in the morning.

After getting the others set up with the books, he had immediately gravitated to the weight sets. After some stretches, he started at the bench and, setting himself up with 60 kilos – the amount he had been able to lift when he had last tried – found that several weeks without lifting had weakened him so that he couldn't even complete a 10-set of presses before he had to use magic to get the weighted bar off his chest (the curses). From there he had moved to the dumbbells – 15-kilos for each hand – and managed two 10-sets before his hands wouldn't clench and the metal weights fell to the floor (the crashing). Finally, he did laps around the room until the clock on the wall told them it was time for dinner.

Charles and Sev stretched and put the books back. Aries collapsed, gasping and covered in sweat. Sev walked over to his fallen friend and looked him over.

"Aries," he said scornfully, "you smell. You should take a bath before dinner."

Aries nodded from his place on the floor. "What's…the password…again?" he gasped out, chest heaving from his exertions.

"Heffalump," Sev told him. Charles assumed it was the password to the prefect's bathroom, as Sev was a prefect, and he was proven correct when the Slytherin continued. "We just shouldn't let the Hufflepuffs have a turn naming it, it always ends up like this."

Aries and Charles both laughed and Aries picked himself up off the floor, retrieving his robe and cloak from the hooks on the wall. He'd taken them off to start exercising, leaving him in a white muggle tee and pants.

"Aren't you going to put some real clothes on?" Charles asked as Aries made as if to walk out the door like that.

"I'm just going down two floors," Aries said, still panting slightly. "And I'm boiling hot as is, I'd boil alive inside a robe. You guys go on to dinner without me, I should be down soon enough."

The others nodded and walked off, leaving Aries free to take a shortcut through the portrait of Barnabus the Barmy, right across from the Room of Requirement, that led to the shadow behind the statue of Boris the Bewildered, next to the Prefect's Bathroom.

As he had done earlier, he locked the door so no one – like James or Remus or (heaven forbid!) Lily – would come in and catch him. He dropped his robe and cloak on a marble bench that sat off to the side, piled high with towels, and added his other clothes as well. He filled the tub with ice-blue water that he knew to be cool and full of mild muscle relaxants, as well as leaving one smelling faintly of vanilla.

He thought he heard a giggle as he lowered himself in, closing his eyes at the relaxing chill.

"Myrtle if you so much as glance at me before I'm done and clothed again I will tell Peeves all about your little peep shows," he threatened lazily. The giggle turned into a gasp and then there was blessed silence. He grinned as he let himself float, full of peace, mischief, and hope.

Twenty years to destroy the last four Horcruxes before he had to kill Voldemort.

Time was a beautiful thing.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: So, here's the next chapter, what do you think?**

**PANTZ - Emerson**


	5. Amazing Bouncing ?

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary:** See chapter 1.

**A/N: **Well, here we have one of my favorite chapters, now HBP compliant.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter Five: Adventures of the Amazing Bouncing…

Over the next two months, Aries, Charles, and Sev met every Saturday in the Room of Requirement while the Gryffindor Quidditch team was at practice. This was unanimously agreed to be the safest time as both Sirius and James were on the team, Peter never missed seeing James practice, Remus was usually there as well with his nose buried in a book, and Lily would study under a tree nearby and pretend she wasn't watching. Aries thought it was quite funny how, since James had stopped being the quite the arrogant git he was before – at least around anyone who wasn't Slytherin or Aries – Lily had seemed irresistibly drawn to him. They were now the talk of the school as the Most In Denial Couple.

They spent four weeks on the Minimus transformation – studying it and getting Aries to explain the theory behind it – before either Charles or Sev was ready for attempting it. The spell itself was a complex ten-line incantation in Egyptian, as it originated from ancient Egyptian priests needing to imitate the animal forms of their respective gods, and they had to spend another week memorizing it. Aries forced them to know it by heart, and tested them by slipping a colorful fireworks display in between studying and reciting. Once both could recite the words without any mistakes while distracted, Aries decided to let them try it.

Severus had picked an asp, which made Aries a little nervous as he would have to remember not to talk to Sev while he was in snake form, lest he should accidentally speak Parseltongue. The Slytherin went first, holding his wand above his head – as was the technique for any self-directed spells (Aries chuckled inwardly again at the thought of gravity influencing magic) – and reciting the ancient words. Slowly, his form began to shift and blur, seeming to melt into a long, black half-melted candle on the floor. Then the edges came back into focus and there was Sev – a four foot long black snake, his scales glistening as if wet.

_"Sweet Merlin it worked!"_ the snake hissed. Aries bit his lip to stifle a laugh. _"Look, Charles, Aries, I'm a snake! It worked!"_

With a side-long glance at Aries, Charles said, "Sev, you're talking like a snake, we can't understand you. Can you understand us?"

Sev-the-snake cocked his head curiously, then seemed to frown – if a snake could frown – and reversed the transformation with a small pop.

"That was odd," he said softly. "I know you were speaking English, I could hear the sounds, but I couldn't make any sense of them. But when I spoke, it sounded normal. I didn't think snakes could speak human tongues."

Aries shrugged. "You weren't speaking human, you were speaking Parseltongue, I bet. Remember, in Art of the Serpent, Konta mentions how, to a Parselmouth, Parseltongue sounds like their native tongue, with an undertone of hissing."

It was actually nothing like that at all, but Konta's explanation was as good as anything he could come up with without rambling.

Sev nodded, looking confused. "That still doesn't explain why I couldn't understand English."

"Maybe just like, as a human, you can't understand Parseltongue, even though you're now part snake," Charles ventured, "as a snake, you can't understand human, even though you are one."

That made as much sense as anything, so they put the matter to rest and Charles stepped up to try.

The redhead had chosen a Scottish terrier. He told Aries that a terrier was his first pet back at Malfoy Manor and he'd always been fond of the little dogs. After Charles finished the incantation, he began to blur and shrink, turning paler and paler until he was completely white. Finally, the new form came into focus.

Aries fell on the floor, laughing uproariously.

"That's not a dog," Sev pointed out, raising an amused eyebrow.

Charles-the-ferret squeaked indignantly. He turned back, and even the sound of the transformation seemed angry. The youth cursed up a storm, using words Aries was shocked he even knew – even a few terms he had been sure were purely muggle – before finally settling down enough to ask why that had happened. With lots of cursing intermittent in the question, but he had asked.

"Have you ever been turned into a ferret before?" Sev asked, eyes looking eager, as if he thought he knew the answer but was unsure of just one thing. Harry remembered seeing that same look on Hermione's face on more than one occasion.

"Yes," Charles growled. "A senile, paranoid, completely bonkers ex-auror who taught at my school once transformed me and slammed me against he floor a couple times. Why?"

Aries, having caught on, picked up one of the instructional books and read a passage aloud.

"'One of the reasons so few people ever use the Minimus spell'," he quoted, "'is that it is highly affected by previous self-transfigurations. If the Primus spell were performed prior to attempting the Minimus, the forms would be the same, even if the Primus form would normally be too advanced for a Minimus form. By the same token, if a person had ever, in the course of their education, changed him or herself into some object or other, the Minimus spell would be ineffective.' I guess that, when the auror turned you into a ferret, that counted as a self-transfiguration. So you're, er, rather stuck with it."

Charles glared at them with a fierceness to rival the older Snape's and stormed out. As soon as he was gone, Aries collapsed in laughter again.

"I fail to see just what is so amusing," Severus drawled, examining the passage in his own book that Aries had quoted.

"When we were hanging out here over the end of summer break," Aries lied smoothly, using an occurrence from sixth year, "Charles poked fun at how quiet I was until I got angry and said he was just a chattery little ferret. Oh, he glared at me so hard, and now I see why, and he really is a ferret!" He collapsed into laughter again, Severus chuckling along with him. Finally, when it was almost time for dinner, they managed to calm down, and Aries congratulated him on his mastery of the spell.

Later that evening, as he had done every alternate evening previous, after the first tutoring session, Aries returned to the Room of Requirement. As he paced in front of the wall, he imagined a training room, with illusions of death eaters and dangerous creatures and even muggles – just real enough for him to get into the fight, not real enough to cause serious damage; he didn't want to have to explain a gunshot wound to Madam Pomfrey. From the moment he entered until the simulation ended after two or three hours (depending on how much magic he'd used that day), Aries would be kept on his toes, shooting spell after spell after spell until he was nicely exhausted. The other nights, he left the room in its arena form and worked the weights or ran laps until he could barely move – he always made sure to add on a bathroom before he went in, as he rarely had enough energy before a good soak to walk all the way to the prefect's bathroom.

Both of these nights served the same purpose – to expand his strength by testing his limits. Finally, after keeping with a strict schedule for two months solid, he was beginning to show the results. He could now easily bench a few 10-sets of 70 kilos – more than ever before – run a 6 minute mile, and do 200 sit-ups in one sitting, though he felt like throwing up afterwards. More than that, his magic had expanded so that he needed to consciously regulate the power needed for what used to be extremely draining spells, such as the patronus. The first time the Room had thought to throw dementors at him had been a week after the Ferret Incident, and he'd accidentally shot two stags out of his wand at once. Each session left him so tired that he slept long and deep, feeling more refreshed afterward than he had since the nightmares started after first year, especially on the weekend, when he could sleep a full nine hours without interruption.

He knew that his dorm mates knew he was out late each night, but without the map they had no way of knowing where he was going. Short of following him, that is. He figured they would probably try it eventually, but he cast a Listening Charm on himself while he was walking to and from – if anyone were near enough to see him, he would hear them.

Tonight he wanted to try out a new curse he'd found in a book under Charles' bed. Called the de-clawing jinx, it could remove anything sharp from it's place, be it a dagger blade, the point of a stake, or – hence the name – something's claw. The book didn't say whether the removal was painful or not, so he wanted to try it on the Room's illusions before he had to use it on something else. If it was painful, he'd mentally file it under 'last resorts', but if it wasn't, it could be really useful in a variety of situations.

Inside, the Room had taken on a jungle appearance. Wondering what it would come up with for him to face, Aries crouched by a tree in some underbrush and waited, breathing as quietly as he could. All around him leaves rustled and varieties of birds cried out shrill warnings. Suddenly, an arrow imbedded itself with a sickening THUNK into the tree, just inches above his head. He turned to see a naga holding a bow, already notched with another arrow. The naga let the arrow loose and Aries frantically waved his wand.

"_Amoveo Mucro_," he shouted. The tip of the arrow fell to the earthy floor, causing the shaft to loose balance and barrel roll into a bush three feet away. The naga hissed and lunged, huge mouth open wide, baring a row of two-centimeter fangs. Aries shouted the spell again, putting more power into it, and all suddenly the naga had nothing but two rows of pink flesh.

Stunned, the snake-woman reared back and fingered her gums with a look of confusion; but no pain. Aries figured that was good enough and let the Room know he wanted to start the regular training now.

Two hours later, he stumbled from the bath and staggered toward the dorms, grateful that it was the weekend and he could sleep in later than usual. He barely paid attention to where he was going, only keeping half an ear out for Filch – Mrs. Norris he'd charmed with his cat form, so she didn't cause him any trouble. Somehow, he made it back up to the dormitory without any recollection of giving the pink lady the password. And as he dropped into bed, he completely failed to notice the small puddle of musk he'd left his shoes in.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The next day after lunch, Charles decided that if he had to be a ferret – _a bloody ferret! He was going to kill Moody!_ – then he was going to enjoy himself. He had finished his homework Friday and Saturday, and sleeping in until almost noon on Sunday had left him energized and ready for anything. Checking to make sure none of his dorm-mates were there (Aries was, but he was still snoring), Charles focused on the spell and transformed, for the third time in his life – _Kill! Moody!_ – into a snow white ferret.

Suddenly the small dorm with barely enough room for six teenage boys and their belongings seemed huge, as large as the Great Hall! He tentatively – it was a _long_ way down – hopped off the bed, only to find the landing refreshingly soft. After a few failed attempts to right himself, Charles remembered that ferrets aren't bipedal and thanked the founders that no one had been watching, deciding to just let instinct guide him. After that, motion became incredibly easy and he fairly flew across the floor, scampering over piles of clothes and books as if they weren't even there. He jumped onto one of the Marauders' beds and tousled up the covers. Under the pillow, he found a silvery, fluid material that smelled like magic (a phenomenon he couldn't explain if he tried). This was the famous invisibility cloak. The one that would in the future lead a thirteen year old Harry Potter to throw mud at him and that, currently, the Marauders used to sneak about. He would have loved to steal it, but Black would probably lay the blame on Aries and Charles just didn't want to have to deal with another bout of animosity between the brunet and the Marauders – not to mention the pitiful grieving looks Aries would get whenever arguments broke out.

Huffing in an unfortunately high pitched, ferrety way, Charles hopped back onto the floor. Suddenly quite discontented to stay in the dorm, he scurried to the door. It was heavy – practically impossible for a ferret to move – but the one inch gap left ajar was more than wide enough for his little body to squeeze through and soon he was out and about.

The Gryffindors hanging out in their common room didn't even notice him as he ran silently along the base of the wall to a shadowy corner. Someone had left their bag there – a girl if the smell of perfume coming from inside were any indication – and he slipped inside, hiding under a book.

There was a half-finished bag of Berti Bott's Every Flavor Beans inside and Charles reached inside and took one – quite pleased that his new front feet actually worked well as hands, too; much better than the paws of a dog. The candy was the size of a large sandwich, but he stuffed it into his mouth whole and bit down. Recognizing immediately the taste of sardine, Charles prepared to spit it out, but a moment more and he realized it actually tasted rather good. The texture seemed a bit off from what his ferret-side would prefer; as soon as that thought entered, he decided to stop analyzing the experience as he really didn't want to know what sort of texture a ferret would like.

Suddenly, the ground started to shake horribly, shifting books fell on him and he scrambled to the top of the bag and peaked out.

Oh. He realized with would-be-blushing embarrassment that the bag had been picked up by its owner. They were now strolling down the halls of Hogwarts. More interestingly, the bag seemed to be owned by Lily Evans, and the red head was muttering absently to herself.

"Where is he? He knows we have to head the prefect meetings right before lunch every Sunday. He knows! I know he knows; he came to the last seven. Where is he? Probably out showing off or picking on Slytherins. Oh, that's not fair, he's been acting a lot better lately. Maybe he just forgot, that's it. I bet he forgot."

By the time she had finished deciding that James Potter – because who else would Evans be muttering about? – was indeed a decent human being, the two of them had arrived at the library.

What should have been the typical dull silence of a near abandoned study area was full of frighteningly interesting noises. Little things, like the sound of a book tipping over on its neighbors, made his head whip around to find the source. As soon as Lily dropped her bag – none to gently, either; thank goodness he was Ferret the Invincible – on the table, Charles scurried out and hopped onto the floor, running for the shadows under a bookshelf before he could be seen.

Oh and there were so many things to see here! And smell, oh the smells! How did he ever live without this sense of smell, how did he never notice how blind he was with nothing but a stupid human nose? He could smell not just that the many-months-old gum stuck to the underside of the bookshelf was cherry flavored, but also that the person to chew it had been male, and someone he knew. Charles was even able to tell that the last animal here had been a frog who had hopped through two days ago. He followed the trail of frog-scent until he got bored and moved on.

The ex-Slytherin continued to play like this for a long time, nibbling indiscriminately on any bits of food he could find – which he was sure would disgust himself if he were human, but to a ferret, a chocolate frog leg was a chocolate frog leg, discarded under a study table or no. He had come across a few more deposits of that cherry flavored gum, but was able to keep himself from tasting it by a firm reminder that, while the other food bits had only touched the ground, the gum had actually been in some human's disgusting mouth. He was sure he'd be quite grateful for this bit of logic later, when his stomach wasn't quite so empty.

"Peter, that's disgusting!" Charles hear Remus Lupin snap from very close. Suddenly, a chubby finger reached under the bookcase and stuck cherry flavored gum to the wood.

Moment of gratitude now.

Shuddering at the thought of what he had been smelling – Peter was worse than Longbottom, and that was saying something! – Charles decided it was probably time to feed himself properly.

Now…how to do it…

…

He couldn't just transform, he'd have to be someplace private for that, and there weren't terribly many private places in a library.

"Come on, Moony," Black's voice drifted over to him, "enough studying. Let's get some dinner, eh?"

"Alright, alright," Lupin sighed, "I'm done anyway. Thank goodness, since we're going to busy tonight."

Potter shushed him, though it was clearly done through a smile. "You'll get us caught."

"No," Lupin said, also with a smile, "acting like you don't want to get caught, will get you caught. Anyway, let's go."

Charles ran as fast as his little legs could carry him and jumped into Lupin's bag just as he hoisted it on his shoulder. The werewolf's nose twitched and Charles willed him not to notice.

"Peter," scolded Lupin, "how many times have I asked you to wash after you transform? You smell like rodent."

"S-sorry Remus," Peter stammered. "Must've forgotten."

A few moments of jostling and swaying later, they arrived at the Great Hall. The noise and smells were almost overpowering, and it was all Charles could do to wait until the Marauders weren't looking before slipping onto the floor and eating the first dropped roll he could get his paws on. Bits of ham were next on the menu and he ate those with equal relish. Apparently, his ferret-stomach could take quite a bit more, proportionally, than his human stomach, because he was sure he had eaten at least a quarter of his body weight before settling, sated, in Remus' bag to wait.

He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, he was lying under several books at the bottom of the bag, which had just been tossed onto a bed.

"You got the cloak?"

"I've got the cloak. You sure he put his shoes in the musk before he left?"

"They steeped there all night, I checked when I woke up."

"Good, let's go check what our little friend gets up to in the evenings, shall we?"

"Let's."

The flurry of voices was punctuated by the creaky sound of the door opening. Charles was suddenly wide awake. He had to take several moments to untangle himself from books and bag, but managed to make it out of the door just before it shut. Ahead of him were three presences he could smell and hear, but not see, and a rat.

"Alright, Wormtail. You know what to do," came Potter's disembodied voice. The rat squeaked once, then turned and started sniffing the ground. He moved a few feet, sniffed, moved, sniffed, and moved again until Sirius finally snapped.

"We know he went out the bloody portrait hole, so start from there!" he hissed. The rat squeaked embarrassedly and darted down the rest of the stairs and through the common room, the other three Marauders following close, and Charles following them.

Once outside, Pettigrew started his sniff/move pattern again. It wasn't until they were almost to the seventh floor that Charles realized they must be after Aries, who had apparently gone to the Room of Requirement again.

"We'll wait here," Lupin said suddenly, stopping the strange procession. "You go on ahead until you find him, then come back and tell us. This slow moving is driving me crazy."

The others muttered agreement and Pettigrew squeaked and scurried off. Charles, careful to stay where he didn't think the humans could see him, followed a few feet behind until he was sure they were out of sight.

Now, Charles knew that Pettigrew was the traitor, had known since the summer before fifth year. He _hadn't_ known that Aries knew until that first day in the dorms, but since then it was easy to deduce that the Gryffindor had gotten quite close to his godfather before the man's death. Charles didn't know what the future would bring, or whether or not he would stay with the Dark Lord. Trying to warn Potter had been more of a whim than a life-changing decision, especially since it would seem no one knew about it.

However, one thing he did know was that, as Charles Higgins III, he counted Aries Hesuchazo as a friend, and he was nothing if not loyal to his friends.

Anyone who hurt them – past, present, or future – would pay.

As soon as they were in the shadows and sufficiently hidden, Charles scurried up so he was almost alongside the rat and tapped him on the shoulder with one hand-like paw.

Pettigrew stopped and looked over, startled, and Charles used the opportunity to rear back on his hind legs and deliver a punch any ferret could be proud of. The rat fell to the ground, unconscious.

In an instant, the redhead had un-transformed and drawn his wand.

"_Obliviate,_" he whispered, aiming the spell at the last fifteen minutes, then used a shaving charm to scribble a frowning face with it's tongue sticking out – a symbol granger had once drawn on his Transfiguration test when they'd had to grade each others' – on his back before banishing him back to his waiting friends.

Feeling highly self-satisfied, Charles stuck his hands in his pockets and strolled to the Room to see what Aries was up to.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: Thanks for reading! I'll have the next chapter up probably either early tomorrow morning or early afternoon, because I've got a doctor's appt at 10 am (just a check up, no worries ;-P). **

**PANTZ - Emerson**


	6. Reconciliation

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary:** I r not a monkey.

**A/N: **Whelp, here we go with another chapter. I've almost finished chapter eight, so I should be able to upload that completed the day after tomorrow (chapter seven). After that…we'll have to see.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter Six: Reconciliation

The very next day after the 'ferret vs. rat' incident, the Marauders changed tactics entirely. While Aries and Charles both feigned complete innocence, even when a few surprisingly subtle hints were dropped, the four friends still assumed Aries had been behind it all and had apparently decided they were better off leaving the brunet alone. None of them had said a word to him for a week now, and they had gradually gotten more and more tolerant, until Aries could do his homework in the dorm while the Marauders were huddled together to plan.

Such was the situation in early December when Aries threw his quill down in disgust, swearing fluently for a full minute. Sirius quickly took out a quill and parchment of his own to copy down the more inventive phrases.

"Something the matter?" Charles asked mildly.

Aries shot him a glare and gestured at his homework. "It's this," swear, swear, "Ancient Runes! I've looked it up in half the Runes books in the library, but I just don't get it."

Charles shook his head, smirking. "How can you catch up on five years of Arithmancy in two months, but still be struggling in Runes after four?"

"Yeah, that's helpful," Aries sneered, "thank you for pointing out what I already know. Now I understand and can easily write this two foot essay on 'how magical flow affected the original formation of Raidho and how the same can be manipulated for spells and potions'. Thank you so much."

"You got Raidho?" Remus spoke up suddenly. Before Sirius' glare could stop him, the werewolf had jumped off his bed and strolled over to Aries' desk. "You're lucky, I got Thurisaz; that's just plain embarrassing."

Aries winced – Thurisaz was the rune of, among other things, male sexuality. He was suddenly profoundly grateful for his own topic. Remus tipped Aries' parchment so he could read it, azure eyes scanning over the paragraph he had written.

"This is actually pretty good," he said approvingly. "I think I can see where you're becoming confused though. Would you like my help?"

Aries hesitated for a moment; Remus was a little too close to his past/future self for comfort, but at the same time, he was the only one of the people he knew that was both alive and worthy of respect. Plus, he _really_ needed help.

"That would be great!" he said enthusiastically. Remus grinned and turned back to the paper.

"Okay, I think what you're missing here is the basics." He pointed out a few sentences. "Do you know what magical flow is?"

"Of course, it's the flow of raw magic within the Earth itself, but I don't understand how that could possibly have anything to do with runic formation!"

Remus frowned in thought. "You've grown into your Magic Sight, right? You can 'see' spells in the Magical Sense Spectrum?" he asked. Aries nodded. "Okay, cast a small shield in front of you."

Wondering what the other boy was getting at, Aries raised his wand and cast _protego_, automatically shifting his perception so he could see the tiny threads of magic that made up the shield. He looked at Remus and realized that, with Magic Sight, he could almost make out the specter of a wolf in the boy's aura. The image was interesting and he was sorely tempted to stare, but instead moved his gaze to the werewolf's face.

"Now what?"

"Look really closely at the threads, watch how they interlink." Remus brought up one finger and traced the shield, looking for something. Finally, he smiled triumphantly and lightly tapped one small area. "See? Eihwaz, the rune of protection. And here," he tapped a spot a few inches to the right. "Algiz, the rune of defense. You know, James' main rune is Algiz."

Aries could imagine, since Algiz was the Elk rune. As he looked closely at his father, he could see the specter of a stag, as well as a faint intersection of lines that he had to admit looked like Algiz.

"Okay, so the runes appear in the natural flow of the magic when you cast a spell that coincides with their elements," Aries agreed. "But raw magic doesn't have intention or anything like that, so how can it affect, or be affected by, runes?"

"Raw magic doesn't have intention, that's true," Remus nodded. "However, raw magic flows through the Earth just like your magic flowed in your shield, and it has sort of…coincidentally formed into the runes. Hogwarts sits over the largest Eihwaz form in Europe, which is why no one has ever been able to storm the castle. You see, the magic may not have intention, but because it intersected in certain ways, it was…tainted, I guess you could say. Turned towards certain traits, characteristics that then became associated with the runic forms. You see?"

Aries nodded slowly. "So, Raidho would naturally occur under the best roads, or favorite trade routes, because the magic flow around those areas formed the runic symbol, and made it a good place for transportation and journeying? And Raidho would also appear in summoning and banishing spells, apparition, portkeys, floo…I think I get it now! Thanks, Remus."

"No problem," the werewolf grinned and padded back to his friends, who had watched the entire scene with something like morbid fascination. "If you ever need help on that again, you just ask me, okay?"

"Will do," Aries promised, returning to his assignment with relish. With a practical demonstration, all that he had read suddenly made a lot more sense, rather than being just gibberish, and he easily finished off the last foot and a half.

After that, Remus partnered Aries in every Runes class, and often in Arithmancy as well, patiently and aptly explaining things when the brunet was having trouble. They could both tell James and Sirius didn't like it, but if they hadn't shunned their friend over lycanthropy they weren't going to over a little tutoring.

Ever since his 'secret' got out, Charles and Sev had started joining Aries in his nightly exercises. On the physical days, Aries would direct them through his early routine, helping them get used to the excessive physical activity. The two were sore and grouchy for almost a full week before their bodies adjusted. Aries wondered if Sev sometimes had nightmares, as he almost always did the physical exercises and praised them for the good night's sleep he would get after. After all, if anyone knew the benefit of exhaustion in conquering nightmares, it was Aries.

Charles, on the other hand, complained constantly about sore muscles, adamantly refused to lift weights, and whined about "sweating like some unrefined manual laborer" so much that Aries and Sev collaborated to throw him in the Olympic sized swimming pool (a feature that Aries had added at the start of the Quidditch season, needing the feeling of weightlessness). After that, Charles shut up and practiced fencing on physical days.

The magical practice days they all worked together were amusing, to say the least. Aries was far too used to working on his own, and often got in the way of something Charles or Sev was trying to do, or would simply disappear, so intent on a plan of his own that he forgot to tell the others what he was on about; Charles froze up for several seconds when something surprised him and tended toward complicated plots instead of the more simple solutions; and Severus had lousy spellwork on anything other than curses and the Dark Arts, like an Impediment jinx he shot at Aries once that barely slowed him down at all. Still, they had fun, and they knew their power was growing. During their Saturday sessions, Aries had started them on the Patronus charm, but neither had produced more than a weak mist. With more exercise, he was sure both would soon manage it, and maybe by the end of the year be able to produce two.

It was during a Saturday defense practice right after a session of Runes homework with Remus that Aries came up with an idea. He felt he had to pay Remus back somehow for the help he had given – his grades had risen markedly since the tutoring started – and had finally thought of something that might help. He would need to make sure it was alright with the others first.

"I was wondering," he started casually, "would you guys mind if I invited Remus to a few of our practices? He'd probably have to come late because of Potter and Black's Quidditch practice, but–"

"Absolutely not!" Sev snapped. "I mind very much!"

Aries blinked, stunned by the emphatic response. Why was Sev so against it? It couldn't be just because Remus was a Marauder. He even seemed to be afraid…

Oh. Of course. The 'prank' must have already happened. Funny, he'd always imagined it happening in seventh year, but he didn't think he'd missed it happening.

Severus sighed at his friends' stunned expressions, thinking they didn't know. "There is…a side to Lupin that you haven't seen, and I hope you never do, but I have, and I refuse to be around him more than absolutely necessary. You may invite him if you wish, but I will not be here if you do"

He started to walk out the door and Aries stepped forward quickly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Wait, it's alright, Sev," he reassured the Slytherin. "If you don't want him here, I won't invite him. Now how about you come back here and we'll try the patronus charm some more."

Severus searched his eyes intently, looking for something specific, but Aries didn't know what. He occluded his mind just in case, using skills that Remus had patiently taught him, letting only his general sincerity show through. Evidently that was what his friend was looking for, as he nodded sharply and moved back to the arena area.

They had been working on the Patronus charm for three weeks straight, now. Aries said that as soon as Sev and Charles both could get a corporeal form, he would find a more practical way for them to practice. Neither knew, or wanted to know, what he meant, which caused Aries no small amount of amusement. He made sure to bring it up at least twice a week, just to see the hesitant looks that passed between them. What they didn't know was that he had, through a few late night wanderings those few nights he wasn't too tired to stand, procured a boggart (an experience which reminded him quite firmly of just _why_ he hated dementors). It was currently stored in a chest in Myrtle's bathroom; further threats had earned the ghost's silence on the matter.

And tonight was the lucky night, Aries would have to be getting that boggart out in a week. In the second hour of the session, Severus produced a powdery bat that fluttered around the room before disappearing. Charles had to work a bit longer, his determination taking on a new cast. Finally, Aries stopped him.

"Jealousy is a negative emotion and will interfere," he said quietly. "Focus, and remember happy times."

Charles shot him an indignant glare for the jealousy comment, but forcefully bit back any snide remarks that came to mind. He shoved aside feelings of anger, envy, inferiority, defiance, pride, and concentrated on the memory – a bittersweet nostalgia, recalling when his normally fairly reserved father had told him he was proud of him and given him a hug because he got his Hogwarts letter. He opened his eyes, surprised that he had closed them, and saw a great arctic wolf staring back at him, it's tongue lolling out as if in laughter. It gradually returned to it's misty state, becoming wisps of smoke that blew away in a nonexistent breeze.

The three of them cheered and Aries pulled out some celebratory butterbeers he'd been saving. Charles scoffed and muttered about plebian drinks, but practically downed half his bottle in one go. They laughed and chatted until dinner was half over, arriving in the Great Hall just in time for the pudding.

Aries wasn't at breakfast the next morning, savoring the luxury of sleeping in while his body and magic were replenished and strengthened, so he was rather shocked to find Sev by the lake when he went for a walk. The Slytherin was throwing rocks out over the water, skipping some, but mostly just throwing, with one hand, the other hand clutched impossibly tight over a letter. The brunet, wanting to help but knowing that Sev wanted quiet, wandered around close by, gathering rocks which he piled at his friend's side. By the time the pile had reached Severus' knee, the tension had gone and the black-haired boy was chuckling slightly.

"You are an odd one, Aries," he said dryly. Aries smirked up at him.

"I know," he responded with a shrug. "Do you want to talk about it."

Sev sighed, binging his clenched fist around in front of him and opening it, smoothing out the letter parchment.

"It's nothing big, really," he muttered morosely. "My father wishes me home for Christmas break. I would prefer not to go, as Mother is sure to host a grand party where Father can show off his 'prize eldest' Arnold."

"You have a brother?" Aries asked, more shocked and stunned than he should have been, given that he already knew Sev had a family. Why shouldn't he have siblings?

"Indeed," Sev sneered, then deepened his voice, imitating his father, "Arnold Septemius Snape, heir to the Snape and Prince lines, Auror of the highest degree, achieved 12 OWLS and 7 NEWTS, best in his class in all the real magic subjects, and a fine Quidditch player to boot. He does his old man proud.' The introduction is always the same. I apologize, this is hardly your concern."

"Don't be stupid," Aries scoffed, "if you can't talk about your troubles to your friends, who _can_ you talk to?"

Sev looked at him skeptically, but took his words to heart and continued. "Whenever my father introduces me, which isn't often anyway, he says 'That's my other son, Severus. You'll have to excuse him.' My father is a muggle, you see. He doesn't understand magic at all, and he only respects sports and flashy spells; he likes Arnold because he played football before he played Quidditch, but I've never been very interested in sports; Arnold always shows him new spells he learns, but I'm better at potions, which Father says is 'no better than cooking', which is 'woman's work'. I try to compensate by learning everything, even if I can't do it, but it's impossible to get better grades than Potter or Black, with how the teachers favor them, or that Evans mudblood."

Aries gabbed Severus' shoulder and spun him around to face him.

"Severus, I am your friend and I am happy to listen to your troubles, but if you say that word again I will punch you in the mouth and curse you with something unpleasant. Are we clear?"

The black haired teen nodded, looking ashamed. "I apologize, I forgot your mother was muggleborn. My only experience with muggles is with my father and he is…unpleasant. Besides, the name is a handy way to rile Potter up."

Aries nodded curtly and turned back to the lake, ready to continue the conversation.

"I'm sorry you have to go through that," he said sincerely. "It must be hard on you, to feel so alienated from your whole family. I suspect your mother dotes on both you and Arnold equally, trying to make peace, but you don't want peace, you want your father's approval. I also suspect you resent Arnold for the attention he receives. Am I right?"

Severus simply stared at him in shock, at a loss for words. Aries smirked inside, who better to understand such a situation than himself, the 'burden' of the Dursley family? He had read several books from the library when he was younger, and was almost always able to spot the character with a family comparable to, if not quite like, his. Tolkein's Faramir and Boromir came to mind most readily, with Severus as Faramir, Arnold as Boromir, spellwork and sports as the lauded tactics and leadership, potions as the disregarded hunting and stealth.

"It would be my guess," Aries went on, "that no matter what your father says, Arnold would like to be your friend, as well as your brother. Perhaps you should focus on him, instead of your father?"

"You have…a great deal of insight," Severus said shakily. "Thank you for your advice, I will remember it."

Aries nodded, but said nothing, and as the silence began to grow uncomfortable, returned to the castle. If Severus was going to be going home for Christmas Break, he, Aries, would have to give his present early. He didn't want to miss the boy's face when he opened it. After all, he was sure it would be priceless.

That evening, he left half an hour earlier than he normally would for his exercise. Neither Charles or Sev ever joined him on Sunday, as both were usually too tired from Saturday, so he didn't have to worry about one of them waiting. Instead of going to seventh floor, though, he made his way down to the second and headed for the girl's bathroom. Water was in puddles on the floor, but nothing drastic enough for him to give more than a passing notice.

"Hey Myrtle," he called softly, "someone's talking about you in the prefect's bathroom, you might ought to go see."

There was no response, so Aries figured he could safely assume the ghost wasn't there. He quickly found the fake sink with the snake carving and, moments later, dropped down into the Chamber of Secrets.

The smell was as bad as ever, and he proceeded as quietly as possible, not wanting to wake the basilisk that would still inhabit the place. Luckily, his destination wasn't anywhere near the beast's lair.

Just a few meters beyond the entrance area was a 25-foot basilisk skin, so fresh now that it looked even more alive than it had/would in his second year. Aries didn't waste any more time, he brought out his knife and cut a six inch by six inch square of the leather-like skin, one of the rarest potion ingredients in the world.

The next Friday, after dinner, found Aries walking down to the Slytherin common room, wrapped box in hand. This was the last day before those students not staying at Hogwarts would be sent to Hogsmead station. As Severus had expressed a desire to not publicly display their friendship, Aries figured walking the Slytherin to the train and giving the gift to him there wouldn't be welcome.

"What are you doing?" His mother's voice caught him off guard and he jumped about a foot, spinning around to face the lovely redhead.

"What?" He wasn't out after curfew, and he wasn't breaking any rules, so why did she look so hostile? "I…I'm just…delivering a present…for a friend."

"In the dungeons?" she asked primly. "Because Ravenclaw and Gryffindor are upstairs and Hufflepuff is on the north side of the castle. So a Slytherin? Please excuse me if I'm skeptical."

"Er…" Aries didn't know what to say.

Most of the people he had classes with were aware of his friendship with Sev. But now that he thought about it, every time he, Sev, and Lily were in the same room, the girl was either talking with one of her friends or deeply engrossed in a book or watching the teacher, basically ignoring him as fiercely as possible. He'd been so caught up in alienating his father's friends without actually making them enemies that he hadn't even realized he'd alienated his mother.

"May I see that please?" she demanded. Aries handed it over unthinkingly and she ripped off the paper and opened it up. "What is this, garbage? What a horrible thing to do to a person. We're going to the headmaster."

He suddenly had a flash of just what Hermione might have been like had he and Ron never befriended her.

Moments later, they were up in Dumbledore's office and Lily was brandishing the package like a weapon.

"Sir, I told you those four would be a bad influence," she said mildly, "I just caught him heading to the Slytherin dungeons to give one of them a gag gift."

Dumbledore gently took the gift from Lily's hands and opened it, gently lifting out the contents. He looked at Aries with a raised eyebrow.

"Basilisk skin? Might I ask where you got it?"

"Nowhere dangerous or illegal sir, beyond that, I'd rather not say," Aries admitted.

"If it's not dangerous or illegal, why _won't_ you say?" Lily asked.

"Personal privacy," Aries said coolly.

"I assume this is for our young Mr. Snape?" the headmaster queried mildly, avoiding the potential conflict.

Aries nodded enthusiastically and smiled a little. "Do you think he'll like it?"

"I think it is quite an impressive present. He will likely be overcome with potions enthusiasm."

Aries grinned and took the present back, pealing off the torn paper with a muttered, "Crap, now I'll have to re-wrap it."

"But…I don't understand," Lily stammered. "I _heard_ you saying you hate Slytherins that first day."

"And if you'd have heard the rest of what I said, Evans, you would have known that I was ranting to Remus about the lecture I got from Potter and Black about reading in Salazar's Corner. Now if you'll excuse me, I still have a present to deliver, and even less time to do so."

He turned and left the office, stalking down the stairs. His mother caught up with him at the bottom and grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Look, Aries, I'm sorry," she apologized. "I just…I've always hated how those four dealt with Slytherins, and when you showed up, I thought maybe there would finally be one Gryffindor male I could talk to without wanting to hit. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions when you said what you did, and I shouldn't have overreacted. So…just… I'm sorry, okay?"

"It's okay," he smiled. "No harm done."

She smiled back and he went on his way, feeling much lighter.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: There you go, another chapter slightly altered. If any of you want to know why I changed the name of Sev's brother: The way I see it, with Sev's dad being muggle, he'd probably want his firstborn to have a normal name, so, instead of Aurelius, we get Arnold.**

**Now, I'm off to the doctor!**

**PANTZ - Emerson**


	7. A Cold Chill

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary: **I r still not a monkey

**A/N: **Well, you'll be glad to know I'm still healthy! My checkup went well, and I want to thank all of you who sent in wishes for my health. You guys are awesome!

Now, a few questions readers posed must be answered. One reviewer said that Aries knows the value of popularity, in that those who are most popular can get away with the most. In response, I have to say that Aries, as Harry Potter, learned that yes, when the public loves you, you can get away with anything, but the public is very fickle, and if they change their minds, then you can't get away with sneezing. I think it quite reasonable to assume that Aries would rather stay under the radar than try to go over it.

Another reader asked if I was planning on continuing with Time For Me, as well as this story. The answer is, unfortunately, no. I'm afraid now that I've started going past the half of chapter eight I had written for TFM, it would be immeasurably more difficult to try to go back and write non-HBP-compliant chapters. I'm sorry if this disappoints anyone. Now, on to the chapter!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter Seven: A Cold Chill

Aries hurried back up to Gryffindor tower to retrieve more wrapping paper. As he deftly covered the small box, he laughed to himself at how horrified Aunt Petunia would be that the skill she had instilled in him, hoping to make him feel unwanted as he wrapped his cousin's presents, was now being used to wrap basilisk skin for a wizard. She would likely turn that odd shade of puce and dispose of every last bit of wrapping paper in the house. A shame, really, as the deep blue one with silver stars was rather nice.

The wrapping paper he had purchased from the post office in Hogsmead was green with scale texture, and he tied it with a silver ribbon. He'd thought about getting a black ribbon or black paper instead, but it just didn't seem _festive_ enough. Aries had, however, bought a length of gold ribbon to tie Charles' present with, mostly to annoy him. At the base of the bow, he tied on the nametag – useless, really, since he was delivering it in person, but it looked more formal that way.

Satisfied, he rushed back down to the dungeons, taking as many shortcuts as he knew. Barely six minutes later, he stepped out from behind a portrait of three dragons dancing in the air, just a few feet down from the entrance to the Slytherin common room. It had taken a good deal of investigation, but in the middle of the previous year, Aries had finally realized that the entrance could be distinguished from the surrounding wall by a coiled snake formed by the stones. Once you knew what to look for, it was obvious. He knocked loudly and waited.

"Hello?" a tiny second year girl asked snootily, pushing open the door from the inside. "What do you want, Gryffindor?"

Aries raised an eyebrow. "I would like to speak with Severus Snape, could you please get him for me," he asked politely.

The girl sneered at him – looking quite frankly ridiculous – and appeared to be about to tell him off when someone pulled her away.

"Hello, Aries," Bellatrix cooed. She had been trying to 'seduce' him for a while now, but every time he saw her, Aries had to stop himself from cursing her into oblivion, so she was getting nowhere fast.

"Black," Aries greeted with a growl. "Either get Severus for me or kindly get out of my way so I can seek him out myself."

Bellatrix pouted, almost making Aries gag, but moved aside. He entered the cavernous common room, shuddering as he felt her eyes checking out his rear end. The layout was the same it had been in second year, though he now knew more about it. Sev had once told Aries that he spent a good deal of his time in the Slytherin study area working out better ways to make the potions in the textbook; he'd said it was a large quiet room with resource books, desks, spare parchment, quills and ink, and a small potion's lab. The proper door was unmarked, but easy to identify as it was far more decorative than the closet doors (the dormitories were down open hallways).

Aries didn't look left or right, walking straight across the hearth as if he belonged there. He knew very well that practically everyone's eyes were on him, but he just opened the door and shut it behind him.

Severus was, of course, at the potions lab, bottling and labeling from what looked like five separate cauldrons. Aries wouldn't be surprised if all the other Slytherins had left that particular area for him alone, deciding it would be better to find their own potion area than to disturb the youth's work. He could just imagine Sev biting the head off some first year who had managed to upset one of his experiments. He'd probably use the same words his future self often used on Neville.

"Can I help?" Aries asked, peering over the edge of the last still-full cauldron.

Severus jumped, almost dropping his vial; there was a tense moment where he fumbled with startled fingers to grasp the slick glass before he finally managed to hold it still again. The Slytherin glared at Aries for the near-miss.

"Sorry," said Aries, unrepentantly. Sev rolled his eyes and managed a slight lift at one corner of his mouth that meant he was not entirely displeased. "I brought your Christmas present. Do you want to open it now or when you're done storing your concoctions?"

Sev raised an eyebrow. "Is 'at Christmas' not an option, then?" he teased.

"Nope," Aries replied candidly, grinning.

"Very well, help me bottle the rest of this and I will open it then," Sev agreed.

They got to work – Aries holding the bottles and Sev ladling the potions – and were finished before a quarter of an hour had passed. As soon as the Slytherin had finished carefully placing all his vials in a carrying case, Aries practically thrust the gift at him. Amusement flashed in Sev's eyes, but he dutifully sat and began to open it, with the same methodical grace with which he did everything. First he read the card, then he untied the bow and carefully undid the ribbon, by the time he finally got one corner of the wrapping opened up, Aries was almost out of his seat with impatient excitement.

Finally – finally! – Sev got down to the box and lifted the lid. Aries watched carefully as confusion, realization, and something close to awed gratitude made their way onto his face in close succession.

"B-basilisk skin?" he stuttered uncharacteristically. Aries nodded happily, feeling very proud of himself. His smile faltered, though, as his friend continued. "I cannot possibly accept this," Sev insisted, trying to hand the box back. Aries didn't take it, feeling as if lead were gathering in his fingers and holding his arms at his sides.

"Why ever not?" he asked. Was it bad? Had he not gathered it right? Was it too old? Did Sev just plain not want it?

"Something this valuable – you can't mean for me to have it without something in return," Severus explained.

Aries almost laughed in relief.

"Well, I wouldn't mind getting a gift of my own, but it's not mandatory, and certainly not payment for yours," he said. "Don't worry about cost or any of that, I promise it didn't require as much effort as you are likely assuming. You do like it, though, right?"

Severus snorted. "No, I don't have any use at all for one of the rarest and most valuable potions ingredients available," he said sarcastically. Aries grinned a little sheepishly at his own insecurity. "Thank you," Sev added sincerely.

Aries grinned at him and walked with him back to the Slytherin common room, waving goodbye as Sev passed through the corridor to the boys' dorms. Then he realized that he was out after curfew, deep in Slytherin territory.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" Rodolphus Lestrange, known pre-Azkaban for a jealous streak like none other, stepped out of the shadows. "A little bitty Gryffie out after curfew."

Aries froze and reached for his wand, only to remember that his holster had interfered with wrapping Sev's gift, so he had taken it off. And left it behind. With his wand.

"What shall we do with him, Rody-dearest?" Bellatrix cooed, appearing beside the Slytherin and latching onto his arm. Rodolphus glanced at her before smirking triumphantly back at Aries, who barely restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Like he would _want_ to steal Bellatrix from her future husband.

"Well, we can't just let him leave," Rodolphus sneered. "He'd get caught and given detention."

"Poor thing," Bellatrix added. "Then we shall have to keep him here, shan't we?"

"I think I'll take my chances in the halls, thanks," said Aries, walking off. He hadn't made it more than a few steps before he saw the felt the flash of a spell behind him.

Aries ducked and rolled forward and slightly to the right, coming up nearer the entrance, but out of line and turned sideways to his attackers. Not sparing a moment, he bolted for the door, but didn't quite make it before he felt an itching hex hit his back. The magic spread quickly over his skin, making him want to curl up in a ball and scratch himself bloody. Desperately, he resisted the urge and wrenched the stone portal open, slipping through just before another hex came flying at him.

It would be safest, in the darkness of the halls, to transform into minimus form, but the cat's instinct to scratch would be considerably harder to ignore than his own. The worst thing about the itching hex was not the itch itself, but the potential damage that could be done by the victim. Those who had been left under it for more than a day had been known to scratch most of the skin from their body and leave long gouges in their flesh in futile efforts to quell the incessant itch. If only he hadn't been so absent-minded as to leave his wand in the dorm!

Aries growled, these thoughts were getting him nowhere – literally. He hadn't moved from the area just in front of the Slytherin dorms. Focusing, the Gryffindor forced his legs to move, despite the horrible sensation of fabric pulling against his hexed skin. If he could just get up to the tower and his wand without ripping some part of his body off, he'd be in good shape.

Each step was agony and he had to force himself to complete the motions as he slowly passed out of the dungeons. The stairs were the worst, and he had to go on hands and knees to manage them. The stone was cool and firm under his hands, offering some small comfort as he pushed himself on. Right arm – lift, place, push. Left leg – lift, place, push. Left arm – lift, place, push. Right leg – lift, place, push. Over and over and over until he reached the fourth floor and nearly collapsed in front of the Pink Lady.

"Par…Parsimony," he gasped, sighing in relief as the portrait swung open. He slowly climbed through it then collapsed on the carpeted floor of the common room, one leg twitching incessantly.

_Maybe I'll just lie here for a bit before going to the dorm_, he thought exhaustedly. _Yeah, that sounds good._

"Aries!" he heard someone nearby exclaim. The brunet opened one eye (when had he closed them?) and espied Charles standing over him with mixed concern, confusion, and amusement written clearly on his face.

"Evening Higgins," Aries slurred. "D'you know the counter-charm to the Itching Hex?"

Charles cursed. "Yeah, hang on," he waved his wand and muttered, "_scabio subvenius_."

Instantly, his skin spotted feeling as if sand was stuck under it. All that was left was a vague feeling of chill, but that was a normal after-effect of the hex. One of the body's reactions to the itch was to constrict the blood vessels, reducing flow of warm blood to the skin, where thermal sensing nerves lay. Luckily, this was an easily solved problem, as the fire was still roaring in the grate.

"Thank you _so_ much, Charles," Aries breathed, stretching out his tense muscles as he slowly stood. "What are you doing down here this late?" he asked curiously.

"Are you slow or something?" Charles sneered. "You agreed to meet me down here tonight to talk about the break."

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Aries apologized, ducking his head sheepishly as he slouched down in front of the fire. "A lot of things happened tonight and it sort of slipped my mind."

"Like what?"

Aries told him about bumping into Lily on his way down to give Sev his gift, goin to Dumbledore's, having to rewrap it (and taking off his wrist holster to do so), giving the gift, and finally being ambushed by Rodolphus and Bellatrix, referring to the Slytherin girl by several colorful epithets along the way.

"I swear," Charles shook his head, chuckling slightly. "Only you could get into that much trouble."

Aries snorted. "Ah yes, as it is my fault Evans misunderstood me, that Black whore has started eying me, and Rodolphus is jealous and vindictive," he drawled sarcastically. "Though I will admit it was my own folly to leave my wand behind. In any case, what did you want to talk about?"

"I was just wondering if it might seem…suspicious for us to stay here for the break," said Charles. "Especially for you, with your supposedly over-protective family. I can easily get away with the excuse that it wouldn't be practical to travel to America for three weeks."

Aries blinked. He hadn't thought about that. What would he say if asked? He knew for a fact that, if he _did_ have a family waiting for him, no matter how over-protective, he would want to go back for Christmas. It was difficult to come up with an imaginary reason to stay away.

"Maybe…maybe my parents are going to Greece for the break, and I decided I would rather stay here than go to a country where no one even speaks my language," he suggested.

Charles thought it over carefully. "Why wouldn't they insist on you coming?" he prodded.

"Well, they tried, but I managed to convince them I'd be happy here, and that I wanted to spend the holiday with my friends – and with Hogwarts' legendary library," Aries answered wryly. "Mum never can resist when I tell her I'm doing research."

"Very good," Charles complimented him. "Are you going to the Room tonight?"

Aries laughed incredulously. "I think I'm tired enough. Besides, I overdid it the night before last with the magic, I think. Need to give myself a day to recover. Don't want to risk magical exhaustion."

Charles gasped and placed one hand over his heart. "Aries Hesuchazo, not risking something! The world must be coming to an end. It's Armageddon I tell you!"

"Prat," Aries teased lightly. They laughed and chatted together for about an hour longer, until Aries almost couldn't talk for yawning. Then they slowly, groggily, made their way back up to bed.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The next few days were, remarkably, nearly cloudless, the sun glinting off the blanket of snow like a million tiny prisms. Aries and Charles decided to use the time off to its fullest, and in the four perfect days had six games of snowball Quidditch, no less than twelve impromptu snowball fights, wrote a naughty limerick in the snow that spanned the entirety of the Quidditch pitch, and made a snowman army each, which they then animated to battle each other. Charles won, but not before Aries' side had stripped him of all but his last three 'men'.

By the end of the day Tuesday, both boys had come down with colds. Madam Pomfrey gave them each two spare doses of Pepper-Up and told them it was bed rest for a day at least, 'or else'. Neither of them really wanted to find out what came after 'or else', but knowing Madam Pomfrey it would likely be both painful and foul-smelling.

"Can you imagine what would happen if Madam Pomfrey was a Death Eater?" Aries murmured amusedly as they left. Charles snorted.

"She'd probably watch the Dark Lord like a hawk, badgering him about his blood pressure," he joked. Inside, though, Charles felt a little twist in his gut. He hadn't thought about Death Eaters or the Dark Lord for a while, but now something came to his attention that he'd been putting off subconsciously since his and Aries' little game of 'twenty questions'.

He had chosen a side.

Charles could pinpoint, looking back, the moment that had solidified his choice not to be a Death Eater. It was the second Quidditch game of the season, and for some reason Lucius Malfoy had shown up to watch, the 21-year-old accompanied by his 18-year-old fiancé Narcissa Black. After the game, Potter (the elder) and Black (the mutt) had decided to celebrate their win over Slytherin by tormenting Severus in the Entrance Hall, shooting fire spells at him until he backed himself against the wall. Charles and Aries had tried to get to him, but the wall of students that stood between them and the action had been impenetrable, despite their liberal use of magic. Then Lucius had walked in, escorting Narcissa, looked at the scene with impassive eyes, and walked on.

Charles had been outraged that his own father would turn his back on a Slytherin like that. The man who had taught him everything he knew about house pride.

"At Hogwarts, it's Slytherin against the world, so you need to stick with your housemates," he had told Draco just days before he left for school first year. "Unless it is against improbable odds, do not let a student from another house, _especially_ Gryffindor, pick on a Slytherin. Slytherin sticks together, and so Slytherin prospers, remember that."

And he had, he had lived by it, and adored his father because of it. But Lucius Malfoy was nothing but a liar and a hypocrite, turning his back and walking away when the odds were in his favor. Who could admire a man like that?

Despicable.

But now that it came to mind, he felt he owed it to Aries to tell him. When he actually paused to think, it was mind-boggling that Aries had held up without abandoning him. He was Harry Potter, for Merlin's sake! And his only friends were two Death Eaters? No, Aries needed to know that he had a firm ally in Charles, if only for his own sanity.

Decided, Charles grabbed Aries' arm and dragged him into the nearest alcove, almost dislodging the other boy's potion doses in the process.

"Wha- Charles, what are you doing?" Aries asked, watching his friend run an agitated hand through his hair.

"Look, there's something you need to know and I'm only going to say it once 'cause it could get me killed so don't tell anyone and listen good," the redhead rambled. He blew air out through his teeth and gathered his thoughts, before blurting out, "I'm not going to be a Death Eater."

Aries blinked, nonplussed, as Charles continued.

"I won't join in this time, and I won't join when our time rolls around again, and I'll help you bring him down, take him out, whatever it is you have to do."

Aries blinked again, then his face spread in a broad grin.

"Well, thanks for telling me, mate," he said lightly, "but I already knew that."

"You – wait, you what?" Charles demanded.

"Honestly, Charles," said Aries, almost laughing. "A Death Eater would have killed me for throwing him in a pool. And I doubt I could get Voldemort to fight the war with a snowman army. Still, it's good to have the reassurance. Now come on, let's get back to the common room and have hot chocolate."

The brunet turned and walked away, leaving Charles gaping after him.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

That evening they lazed about on couches with big fluffy quilts, cups of hot cocoa (courtesy of the house elves), and books. Aries' was one he had seen in the Room and wanted to take a closer look at. Unfortunately, nothing inside the room could be taken out. He had tied once with his favorite sword, but it had vanished from his hand the moment he stepped through the door. So, the brunet had been forced to seek out a copy in the library.

However, interesting though it was, Aries' mind was not on his book. Instead, it had returned to the conversation he'd had with Charles. It had brought up many questions he really wanted answers to. Some for pure curiosity's sake, such as:

"Why and when did Draco decide he wouldn't be a Death Eater?"

"What is Charles going to do with his life, then?"

"Might his loyalties change back when we return to our own time and he can be himself again?"

And others, of more pressing concern, such as:

"What in all the blue blazes am I going to do when Sev joins Voldemort?"

He didn't turn a page of his book the whole evening.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: Well, there you go. Tomorrow I will upload the brand new, completed Chapter Eight for you all to enjoy.**

**PANTZ - Emerson**


	8. Bare Arms

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary:** No monkeys here.

**A/N:** Here it is, boys and girls, the full and complete Chapter Eight!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter Eight: Bare Arms

The rest of the break passed by swiftly. On Christmas, Charles got Aries an Overlook Orb – a marble-sized milky white stone with a permanent Notice-Me-Not charm that could be placed on anything so that people wouldn't pay attention to it – and a small pouch of catnip, for which Aries smacked him. The brunet reciprocated with a handmade leather runic band, with Eihwaz and Algiz for protection and Wunjo for fellowship. They both got the same gift from Severus: a vile of Dagr's Light, which allowed the drinker to see everything as if it were daytime, even on the darkest of nights.

Other than that, the last week of the break was spent writing up large amounts of homework. Aries wished he had Remus there while he was doing his Ancient Runes, but managed to do a fairly passable job on his own. Charles finished his homework in record time, then pestered Aries into several games of chess, all of which the redhead won. Aries laughed at the thought of Ron and Malfoy now having _two_ things in common – hair and chess.

Then came that late evening when the carriages pulled up and all the rest of the school piled out and into the Great Hall. The marauders shared a compartment with Lily and greeted Charles – who sat away from Aries, as per usual – warmly. Aries watched as Severus strode with his typical forbidding grace to the Slytherin table. He smiled and waved at his friend, who shot him a shaky half smile back. The Gryffindor raised one eyebrow to indicate his concern – Severus looked somewhat disturbed – but the other boy had already started serving himself, all his attention on the platters of food.

The next chance Aries got to actually talk to Sev was during their potions class that Monday. He could see that the Slytherin was trying to avoid him, but Aries made sure that he got to his friend's side before he could try and get a different partner.

"Hello, Aries," Sev greeted him stiffly.

"Hi, Sev," Aries answered brightly. "How was your break?"

Severus snorted lightly and concentrated on the dragon tongue he was slicing, attempting to ignore the question. Aries was not deterred.

"Did you get any neat presents?" he asked. "What did Charles get you? He refused to tell me."

"Perhaps he felt it was _none of your business_," Sev suggested acidly.

Aries shrugged. "Maybe, you never know with Charles." There was a thick moment of silence before he decided to take the plunge. "So, how did things go with your brother?"

Severus jerked and slammed his knife on the table. "I do believe I was mistaken in the thought that you were part Slytherin, as your obvious obtuseness is purely Gryffindor," he sneered coldly. "Let me say this plainly so that you do not misunderstand me, Hesuchazo: I. Do. Not. Wish. To. Speak. Of. It. Understand?"

"Oh yes, of course," Aries responded pleasantly. "Why didn't you say so? Are the walnuts supposed to be sliced or left whole? I can't remember."

The Slytherin sighed deeply, as if expelling something foul, or admitting defeat, and said weakly, "Sliced."

To any onlookers, it would seem as if Aries had let the matter drop entirely, without giving it another thought. However, the topic of his friend's holiday was still very much on the Gryffindor's mind. It was worrisome that Sev had come back so tense. It was obvious that the most tender subject was his bother; Aries could only hope things hadn't gone _too_ badly in that respect. What if he'd been wrong about Arnold and instead of being like Faramir, he was like Dudley? What if the 'Auror of the highest degree' enjoyed and reveled in the extra praise and attention from his father, rubbing Severus' lack in his face at every chance? Why, if Sev's brother had done that, he was going to be hearing a thing or two from Aries Hesuchazo. He'd slug him right in the face if he'd said anything to hur–

"Aries!" Severus exclaimed loudly. "Watch your work! You just about cut your finger off! You're bleeding, you bloody oblivious Gryffindor! Professor Slughorn, I need to take Aries to the hospital wing."

"Yes, yes, go," the walrus-like man sneered, obviously disapproving of Sev's choice of friends. "I'll grade your potion as it stands, mind you."

Aries looked up, shocked. They were only halfway done! There was no way they could pass if he graded it now! But Severus just nodded and started pulling him by his uninjured hand into the hall.

"Sev," Aries protested, "our grade…"

"Is nothing someone who very nearly cut their own hand off should be worrying about," Severus snapped. "For your information, one less than perfect potions score won't ruin my life or yours, especially because this is our final year at Hogwarts and it is the NEWT scores that really matter."

Aries smiles softly as he let himself be pulled through the halls. It felt rather nice to have someone drag him to the hospital wing again. Hermione had done it before, but she wasn't as good as Sev at finding things wrong with him.

In the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey bustled around tutting and muttering to herself about the idiocy of having dangerous things like knives around. Aries didn't doubt that, if Madam Pomfrey had her way, the world would be nothing but padded walls and safety harnesses.

"What on Earth had you do distracted you'd cut yourself?" Sev demanded once they were in the hallway and alone again. "You're usually much more careful."

Aries shrugged bashfully, feeling rather foolish now, but decided it wouldn't do any more harm to just tell Sev the truth.

"I was worrying about you," he admitted. "I wondered if maybe your brother had been mean, and started plotting ways to hurt him if that were so."

Sev stopped and turned to him, looking at Aries as though he'd grown another head.

"You were so busy planning revenge for an imagined offense on an _Auror_ that you failed to notice you were dangerously close to permanently mutilating yourself?" the Slytherin scoffed. "You really are a Gryffindor, Aries."

"Hey!" Aries protested, laughing. "You're the one who abandoned a potion to take me to the hospital wing."

He and Sev both chuckled, but Sev seemed rather strained at the end. He took hold of Aries' sleeve and directed him into a little-used side hallway.

"I suppose I owe you an explanation," he said, voice low. Aries started to protest, but Sev held up a hand to stop him. "When I got home, it was just how you had predicted. I spoke to my brother and he seemed so relieved that I didn't…resent him. We spent a good deal of time together and he helped me do my holiday coursework. But…"

"But?" Aries prompted when Sev seemed about to reconsider saying anything. His friend closed his eyes and sighed deeply.

"You have to promise me, swear on your life, that you won't tell another soul what I'm about to tell you," Sev demanded. "No writing it down, no speaking of it, don't even hint."

"Alright," Aries agreed solemnly. "I swear that by no action or inaction of mine will another soul, living or dead, learn what you are about to tell me."

Sev nodded, looking around to make sure no one else could hear. "Just three days before the end of break, I was helping Arnold pack and his sleeve rode up a few inches on his left arm and…I saw…the dark mark."

Aries' mouth opened and closed as he floundered for something to say.

"Wow. Did you…what did you do?" he finally asked. "Did you say anything to him?"

"Oh that would have gone over real well, Aries!" Sev hissed sarcastically. "'Neat tattoo, Arnold; so are you the _only_ spy in the Aurors program or is there a whole squadron?' No, I didn't say anything!"

Aries just stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Sev always turned up the vitriol when he was feeling stressed.

"So did anything else happen? Did he say anything to you about it?" he pressed.

"Nothing explicit," Sev hedged, looking uncomfortable. "But he did…say some things. After the Christmas party, he came into my room to talk, to 'make sure that what Father said hadn't affected me'. While he was there, he asked me if I thought it was right, that Father was allowed to raise us. That we, wizards with the blood of the Prince family, had to be subjected to the tyranny of an ignorant muggle with nothing to his name but a firm fist." As he had spoken, Sev's voice had gotten progressively more angry, until he was nearly growling. Aries felt a chill go through him.

"And?" he asked carefully. "What do you think?"

Sev turned away, the flush of anger on his face accented by a second flush of shame.

"It's not right," he muttered.

"Sev –"

"No, Aries," Severus cut Aries off forcefully. "I know what you're going to say, and I'm not…I don't want to be a Death Eater. But nothing you say can make what that man does right."

With that the Slytherin turned and walked swiftly down the hall toward the dungeons. Aries watched him go, sadness making him unable to turn away. He could sympathize with Severus Snape, which was not something he'd ever have thought before. Vernon Dursley had treated him so poorly, hurt him so much…but Aries at least knew that wasn't the be all and end all of muggles. Some of his school teachers had been nice, and once in a while he'd meet someone at the park who didn't know his name, hadn't been poisoned against him by his relatives, and they would treat him kind enough.

For someone like Sev, whose only knowledge of muggles came from his father's example… It was easy to see how hatred of his father could turn into hatred of all muggles, and then to wanting muggleborn witches and wizards out of the wizarding world. The slope was slippery, and the landing hard, with that sort of thinking.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The next day after Sev and Aries' encounter, things went back to normal. It seemed that talking about the incident had really helped Sev, and soon they were all gathered in the Room of Requirement with a rattling trunk.

Charles eyed it warily.

"What is that?" he asked anxiously. A full minute after he and Sev had met at the Room, Aries had come walking in with the trunk levitating in front of him and beads of sweat on his forehead.

"This," Aries replied, wiping his head on his robe sleeve, "is a boggart."

"Why, pray tell, did you bring a boggart?" Sev asked, sneering. "We learned how to defeat those three years ago."

"Because my boggart turns into a rather effective dementor, against which you can test your patroni," Aries explained confidently. "Do you want to practice for a bit, make sure you've got a handle on the spell before we set it loose?"

Charles and Sev both nodded, so Aries had the room conjure a trampoline and tumbled around for a few minutes while they worked. Soon enough, Sev indicated that they were ready and Aries returned to the trunk.

"I'm going to stand here," the brunet told them, standing about ten feet from the trunk. "Both of you stand a few feet behind me. I'll let the boggart out, it'll turn into a dementor, and then I want both of you to try and summon your patroni. I won't summon mine unless it becomes absolutely necessary."

His friends nodded curtly and stood at the ready, wands out. Aries opened the trunk with a spell and waited.

In seconds, the torches lining the walls had gone out, leaving them in near-pitch darkness. The Room grew colder and colder with each rattling breath of the fake-dementor. Aries gasped and shut his eyes, but could not block his ears from the sounds rushing in his head.

_"Not Harry, please not Harry!"_

_"Kill the spare."_

_"Harry no! He's gone, Harry. He's d–"_

_"Severus...please…"_

_"Lily, take Harry and go!"_

Around and around it went, seemingly without end. Aries desperately tried to remember where he was and what he was doing, but it was so difficult…there were so many memories.

Finally, just when it all seemed like it would be too much, he heard two voices cry out, "_Expecto Patronum!_"

Aries managed to crack one eye open and saw two clouds of silvery mist forcing the dementor back into the trunk. It was slow going, and Aries knew from experience that both Charles and Sev wouldn't be able to hold on long enough. He used the reprieve their faulty spells had given him to organize his thoughts and call up the memory of Dumbledore's face when Harry told him he'd gotten the memory from Slughorn.

"_Expecto Patronum,_" he said calmly, and opened both eyes to watch his stag patronus charge through the fading silver smoke and force the dementor back. A second wave of his wand had the trunk lid slamming shut and locking.

"Well," Charles panted sarcastically. "That was fun."

"It was certainly informative," Sev muttered darkly, shadowed eyes glaring at his wand.

"No worries," said Aries bracingly, "it took me weeks of practice with a boggart to get my first patronus."

"How on Earth did you get a dementor for a boggart, anyway?" asked Sev.

"Er…well," Aries hesitated. This wasn't a question that had come up in his sparring matches with Charles. Time to improvise, then. "My Dad had to go to the ministry for something or other when I was about six and I wandered off when he wasn't looking; went all the way down to the courtrooms and crossed paths with a criminal being brought in from Azkaban for a hearing, he was being dragged about by two dementors. It wasn't fun, and I've been terrified of the things ever since."

Aries wasn't too sure of this story, as Ron and Hermione hadn't really been too bothered by the Dementor, without any horrific experiences to speak of. They hadn't liked it, by any means, but they weren't affected long term. Thankfully, Sev nodded amiably and let the subject drop.

His friends were still looking rather downtrodden at their lack of success, so Aries quickly pulled three bars of Honeyduke's chocolate out of his pocket and handed a bar to each of them, keeping one for himself. The sweet instantly flooded him with warmth, chasing away the last lingering chill of _Dementia_ – the dementor's acting force, as he'd learned during a comprehensive study of all his external weaknesses.

"So, what now?" Charles asked around a mouthful of chocolate.

"Well, keep practicing," Aries answered. "No more than two tries with the boggart each session, but now that you've felt it – and managed to produce the smoke – it shouldn't take more than a couple weeks before you both have it down."

Sev and Charles both practiced for several more minutes without the boggart. They had no trouble conjuring their patroni in the neutral environment, so instead they practiced endurance, trying to hold onto the spell for as long as possible. Aries encouraged them, despite the fact that he had no idea whether or not this tactic would work – he'd only ever practiced with the boggart.

Finally they were ready to try again and Aries spelled the trunk open. This time, so that he didn't get lost in the memories, the Gryffindor focused hard on his watch, absorbing himself in the motion of the second hand, even as it seemed to slow down. Soon enough, Sev and Charles had conjured mist again and the practice was over.

Too tired to even attempt his usual exercises, Aries left with Charles, waving goodbye to Sev as the Slytherin returned to the dungeons. As soon as they were alone, Charles clapped him on the shoulder.

"You didn't stop at two boggarts per session, did you?" the redhead commented blandly.

"My need was quite a bit greater," Aries retorted. "The sink or swim approach worked for me; but I wanted something without the 'sink' option."

"Do you actually think we can do it?" Charles asked, almost incredulously. "It takes me an eternity to focus on something happy with the boggart around."

Aries laughed. "I think you need more chocolate," he said. Charles swatted at his head, but the brunet dodged. "I'm serious! You're performing the spell, even if it's not corporeal yet; that's way more than halfway there. I didn't even get that far until the very end of my first session with the boggarts."

"Yeah, but that was also the first time you'd heard the spell, wasn't it?" Charles shot back. "And you were thirteen."

"I also fainted whenever one of the creatures who were _supposed_ to be protecting me got too close."

"Alright, I'll give you that. You had motivation."

They laughed and joked all the way back to the dorm.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

A week before the next Hogsmead weekend, Dumbledore announced something that promised to eliminate boredom.

"For our seventh years, there is an exciting opportunity arriving," the headmaster said at dinner. "Several Masters of various fields have arrived in Hogsmead, looking to scout out potential apprentices. If any of you feel that you have enough time besides studying for your NEWTs, you are welcome to apply. Any student who is accepted will study under their Master during the period normally devoted to that class. We are lucky to have two Potions Masters, two Herbology Masters, one Master Arithmancer, one Master Diviner, two Masters of Creatures – one specializing in Dark creatures, another who specializes in Greater Beasts such as Hippogriffs and Dragons – and lastly one Master Spellsmith. If you are interested in applying, please go to the Hogsmead lecture hall this Saturday or Sunday. Applications are available upon request from your Head of House."

As soon as he stopped speaking, the hall erupted into sound. Every seventh year was talking to every other seventh year, discussing which Master they would apply to. Some were rather modest about their chances:

"I don't think I could handle an apprenticeship and still get A's on my NEWTs," one Hufflepuff admitted.

Others were rather…less modest.

"I think life as a Spell Smith will be good to me," James Potter said dreamily. "And don't worry," he added, leaning conspiratorially toward his friends, "I'll teach you guys all the new spells I make."

Aries, Charles and Sev waited until they met together that night to gossip about it.

"I don't know if I should apply," Sev said.

"What? Why not?" Aries asked, shocked. "You're far ahead in most of your classes, right?"

"Well, yes. But the only things I'm moderately good at are Potions and the Dark Arts. I didn't hear of there being any Masters of the Dark Arts waiting in Hogsmead."

"No," Charles agreed, "but there are two Potions Masters that I bet would be glad to take you."

Sev snorted cynically. "Perhaps, but only until they see Evans' work."

"Severus," Aries mock growled, "if you don't get a Potions apprenticeship, I'll transfigure my hat into a carrot and eat it."

"Fine, I'll apply," Sev smirked, "but only if you apply for something as well, Aries."

Aries blinked. "What would I apply for?" he asked, bewildered.

Charles hit him over the head. "Spell Smith, idiot. You've come up with more cool spells over the last term than I can even remember. Like the tentacles you hexed Avery with, remember?"

"Well that was just a simultaneous casting of the _furunculous_ hex with the Jelly Legs jinx, that's not a new spell," Aries protested, frowning. "Well, I suppose you could make it one spell if you were able to tie the two spells to a single word so they'd go together automatically…" He trailed off as he saw Sev and Charles smirking at him. "Oh, fine, you win. I'll get the form from McGonagall."

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: Ah, finally, things are coming together. I've been wanting to bring the Masters in for months. Well, tell me what you think and I'll try and get chapter 9 out ASAP.**

**PANTZ - Emerson**


	9. The Interview

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary:** Monkeys have tails, apes don't.

**A/N: **Well, here it is. Finally. Chapter 9. Read it.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter Nine: The Interview

McGonagall looked rather confused when Aries asked for an application for the Spellsmith apprenticeship. She had never noticed anything to denote skill in that area from her student. Admittedly, he always handed in above-average work, but he didn't seem to master the spells faster than anyone else. She decided she would speak with Flitwick and Perkins to see if they had noticed any skills. In the meantime, though, she couldn't by right stand in Aries' way if he wanted to apply. So she handed him the roll of parchment and watched as he walked unconcernedly away.

He was certainly an odd boy.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries opened the door to the Room, revealing a small study, lit by a few candles and a warm fireplace. There was a spacious wooden desk, with a comfortably padded chair, pushed up against a window that looked out onto the forest. He sat in the chair, wiggling a bit to make himself more comfortable, and unrolled the application.

Merlin was it long!

Seven feet of parchment in all, with questions scribbled every few inches. If he was going to get this finished by Saturday, he'd have to start right away.

1. Name: Aries Martin Hesuchazo (_he and Charles had figured that his muggleborn mother would want a normal muggle name in there somewhere_)

2. Name Origin: Aries – Greek god of war, Martin – derived from Mars, Roman god of war, Hesuchazo – Greek word meaning 'to live a quiet life'

3. Date of Birth: July 31, 1960 (_birthdays were common enough that it wouldn't be suspicious to keep the same one_)

4. Birthstone: Ruby

5. Western Zodiac Sign: Leo

6. Eastern Zodiac Sign and Element: Rat, Metal (_he almost put Monkey, but then remembered he was now twenty years older; at least the element was the same_)

7. Floo Address: Gryffindor Common Room

8. O.W.L results: Astronomy – A; Care of Magical Creatures – E; Charms – E; Defense – O; Divination – P; Herbology – E; History of Magic – D; Potions – E; Transfiguration – E (_the same scores he'd gotten before. Dumbledore had already agreed to provide decoy records_).

9. Favorite Color: Green (_the color of his first Weasley sweater. He was starting to wonder just what kind of application this was_)

10. Hobby: Flying (_that was easy at least_)

11. Wand: 11 ½ inches, Holly, Phoenix feather (_he couldn't lie about that if he wanted to)_

12. Patronus: Stag (_Aries wondered that this was required; not many seventh years would have mastered the patronus spell_)

The questions continued in that vein for the entire application, alternating between serious, easily-applicable topics and outlandish or downright personal inquiries. When it had the gall to ask if he was a virgin, he put down 'Stick your nose back in your own business, if you please'. And then was so offended that he testily responded to the next question – 54. Name a few things that are impossible – 'Slamming a revolving door'.

Finally, having completed none of his homework, Aries set the quill down and stretched his back at exactly 1:35 at night.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

That Saturday morning, Aries didn't awake until after breakfast was already over. He cursed to himself as he realized all the other beds in his dorm were empty. That meant that there was a good chance Potter was already in Hogsmead, lining up for the Apprenticeship. The brunet quickly pulled on a decent set of robes and grabbed his bag with the application and his spell notes, running at top speed down to the kitchens for a bite to eat.

Sev cut him off at the entrance hall, shoving a roll with three slices of bacon stuffed in it into his hand.

"Come on!" he growled urgently, pulling him out the door. "You can eat as we go, we're going to be late!"

Aries was still stunned that Sev had waited for him and saved him some breakfast, so he didn't say anything as he was dragged forcefully along the path to Hogsmead. The winter sun did little more than blind them as they ran, and the frigid breeze blew powdery snow in their faces, but Aries just laughed and ate the bacon before it froze.

The lecture hall was near the center of Hogsmead, just far enough away from places like Zonko's and Honeyduke's that the Masters wouldn't be bothered by the crowds of rowdy children. The atrium at the entrance was large and grandiose almost to the point of vulgarity, but it served it's purpose – providing a large space for the lines of students waiting to enter the side rooms for their interviews. Aries spotted Remus waiting in the line marked Master of Creatures – Dark; Master Vad'latti. That line was actually rather short, only just longer than either of the lines for the Potions Masters. Severus patted his shoulder and headed for the shortest line, that marked Potions Master; Master Magsuppe. Aries had the odd thought that, if it weren't for the title 'Professor', Sev would end up as Master Snape.

Shaking himself, Aries searched for the Spellsmith marker, finally finding it behind the longest line. And worse, right behind James Potter. The brunet silently took his place behind his father, and avoided looking at him by examining the plaque: Master Spellsmith; Master Kon.

Well that had lasted all of ten seconds. Why didn't they make the bloody plaque more detailed? Then again, he supposed he knew all he needed to know about Master Kon from the application. He was probably a dirty, lecherous old man who would poke his nose into every part of his apprentice's life, demanding even to meet new girlfriends just so he could ogle them. Aries wasn't so sure he wanted to do this anymore.

Too late! He'd mindlessly followed the line as it moved, and now he found himself trapped on two sides by the hallway, in front by the closed door Potter had just gone through, and behind by at least twenty more applicants. And Sev.

"When did you get here?" he asked the Slytherin incredulously.

"About five minutes ago," Sev answered smugly. "You were lost in thought, and I figured it would be best not to interrupt, lest you never find your way back. It's not exactly familiar territory, is it?"

Aries growled, but couldn't keep his lips from quirking up at the edges. Sev's natural talent for creative insults always kept him amused.

Soon enough the door opened and Potter walked out. The moment the black-haired boy caught sight of them, he sneered maliciously.

"What are you doing here, Snivellus?" he demanded sharply.

"Simply supporting a friend in his endeavor to become a Spellsmith Apprentice, Potter," Sev drawled coolly, eyes narrowed to slits.

"Well you're too late," said Potter, triumphantly, "because I've already had my interview, and now that Master Kon has seen me, he has no need to see the rest of the rejects. So just run along with your little pet Slytherin, Hesuchazo."

Aries snarled and lifted his wand, too tense at the moment to enter into the repartee, but his wrist was grabbed from behind, halting the motion.

"What were you going to use on him?" asked a voice in his ear that was not Sev.

"A binding/banishing curse to tie him to the chandelier," Aries hissed angrily, making sure his voice would not carry beyond this stranger. He wanted to turn and snap at whoever it was, demand to know what they were going to do about it, but the next moment the pressure on his wrist was gone, and a man in a stiff robe was announcing that he was next to be interviewed.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries was directed by the stiff man down a corridor, which instantly turned almost pitch dark when the door shut behind him, and around a bend, where he found himself quite suddenly in the light. He looked back at the corner, the seemingly natural barrier, and switched to Magical Sight, immediately noticing the pale blue lines of an unfamiliar type of ward.

"Do you like?"

The voice had returned, but this time it was a few feet behind him. Aries whirled around and saw a surprisingly young man sitting behind a table. He was dressed in plain black robes, only the red Master's stripes on the shoulders identified him as anything other than a normal wizard. At least, in normal light. Aries was still looking through Magical Sight and could see the flares of unrestrained power from the man. He couldn't shake the feeling that, despite the humble setting, Master Kon was showing off.

"Do you like the ward?" Master Kon repeated slowly, and Aries realized he had been staring. He quickly slipped back into normal sight and looked around for a second chair while he answered.

"It is intriguing," he said guardedly. "I have never seen a semi-permeable ward that only stopped light." Aries raised an eyebrow; there was no second chair.

"Humph," Master Kon scowled, looking offended, "it's not a semi-permeable ward, it's an encasement ward, dolt. Now, sit."

Needing no more invitation, Aries conjured a chintz armchair and plopped himself down. Master Kon held out his hand expectedly, so the brunet handed him the application scroll. Aries was then forced to wait while the older wizard perused the contents with a completely blank face. It might have been unnerving, but the Gryffindor had excessive experience with both Professor Snape's unbending glare and Professor Dumbledore's unchanging twinkle; Master Kon's bored ambiguity just couldn't match up.

After Master Kon had finished reading the parchment, he slowly moved back up to the top, then lowered it so Aries could see his eyes.

"I see you have rather low scores in Divination and History," he said sternly. Aries opened his mouth to comment, but was immediately cut off. "That is promising; I do not like dealing with those who think things that haven't been done yet are impossible, nor those who think they can see whether or not a venture will be successful. The only way to know if you will succeed, Mr. Hesuchazo, is to try; remember that. Under 'impossible things' you put 'slamming a revolving door' as the only one; I don't know what a revolving door is – you will owl me with an explanation within a week. Now, I assume you know that I can't make a decision without seeing every applicant, but I will tell you in confidence that you are the only brat I have met today who doesn't give me a splitting headache."

"Oh, err…thanks," Aries sputtered, rather thrown off by this abrupt speech. "I'll just…I'll be going, then?"

"Humph," Master Kon scowled again. "You must be more articulate. Work on that. You are dismissed."

Aries blinked once, then left, feeling rather stunned. Sev met him outside the door and looked worriedly at his dazed expression, but didn't say anything until they were at the Three Broomsticks with warm butterbeer and chips.

"Did it go well?" the Slytherin demanded finally. "Do you think you got the apprenticeship?"

"I…think I might have," Aries said uncertainly. "Master Kon said I didn't give him a headache, but he never even gave me a chance to show him my spell journals, and I hardly said three words during the whole interview. What about you? Did all go well with Master Magsuppe?"

Sev smirked and nodded. "He's a rather Hufflepuff-ish man, really, but not as annoying as those at Hogwarts. He had me talk him through my Potions journal, then pulled me aside before I left and told me that he'd be contacting me again and to expect good news."

Just then Potter, Lily and Remus entered the pub and sat down at a nearby table.

"You applied to both Potions Masters this morning, Lily?" James declared loudly. "Good on you! I bet they'll be fighting each other to get you."

"What about you, James; how did it go with the Spellsmith?" Remus asked, more quietly.

"It went wonderfully!" the boy proclaimed. "Kon let me talk myself hoarse about all the spells I've made up, and he nodded the entire time. I think I really impressed him!"

Sev and Aries shared a pair of smirks over their butterbeers. Lily would probably get an apprenticeship from the other Potions Master, but James would, for once in his life, be left high and dry.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

_…in which case, the door would likely spin itself out in moments._

Aries concluded his essay by signing his name beneath the three labeled diagrams. It had taken quite a bit of work and an actual trip to muggle London to complete the assignment, as he'd only once been through a revolving door, and that was many years ago. Finally, though, he felt like he had a detailed enough description that Master Kon would be satisfied. Aries had the oddest feeling that his appointment as apprentice would hinge on this paper.

With a resigned sigh, he tied the two-foot scroll to one of the school owls and sent it off to Hogsmead.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

It was almost two weeks later, at breakfast, that Dumbledore announced he had the Apprenticeship appointments from all the Masters. Two weeks of nervous shakes for more than half the seventh year population. The only calm ones were those who hadn't applied, which in Gryffindor was only Sirius Black, Charles, and Peter Pettigrew. Pettigrew was barely passing most of his classes already; Sirius laughed at the thought of being an apprentice and said he wanted to be an auror after school; Charles just said, with casual disdain, that he didn't feel like becoming an apprentice.

For all but those three, and four Hufflepuffs, the past two weeks had been the longest of their lives. Even James Potter could be seen regularly flying about the castle and muttering to himself. But finally, _finally_ the wait was over and the results were in, and Dumbledore stood at the head table in the Great Hall with a very official-looking scroll, ready to read off the list of those lucky few.

"The first Potions Master, Master Velveson, has chosen our own Head Girl, Lily Evans of Gryffindor," the headmaster declared; Gryffindor applauded as Lily stood. "The second, Master Magsuppe, has chosen Severus Snape of Slytherin." There were bare smatterings of applause from the green and silver table, but Aries clapped loud enough to make up for it. "The first Herbology Master, Master Thallophia, has chosen Tiberius Rockwell of Ravenclaw. The second, Master Embroffa, has chosen Edgar Chloral of Hufflepuff. The Master Arithmancer, Master Pleotus, has chosen Vivian Isocles of Ravenclaw. The Master Diviner has chosen Noelle Loquis of Slytherin. The Master of Dark Creatures, Master Vlad, has chosen Remus Lupin of Gryffindor. The Master of Greater Beasts, Master Jarvey, has chosen Fergus O'Riley of Hufflepuff. Finally the Master Spellsmith, Master Kon, has chosen," James started to rise so he could accept his applause, "Aries Hesuchazo of Gryffindor."

Aries stood and accepted the hesitant and rather confused applause of his table with a small smile. To him, Aries imagined, being beaten by a 'traitorous Slytherin-lover' must be as bad as, if not worse than, being beaten by a Slytherin, or even Snape himself. The brunet considered sticking his tongue out at his future father, but decided he didn't really want to get in a duel in the middle of the Great Hall, even if Potter would likely have taken the blame. He sat down instead and devoted his attention to Dumbledore, who was speaking again.

"To those of you who were not chosen this time, do not worry; there are plenty of apprenticeships available through the ministry, as well as numerous other paths to take to the future," said the headmaster, eyes twinkling brightly as if unaware of the many jealous glares those he had singled out were receiving. "Congratulations are in order for those of you who have been taken on. Hogwarts is very proud of your achievements. Now, you may report to your Head of House after dinner to receive your new timetables. And I would like to remind you that, just because you will likely be going to Hogsmead for your Apprenticeship lessons, that does not mean you are free to loiter in the village and cause trouble." This seemingly stern warning was offset by the professor's bright, mischievous eyes that told everyone there he expected no less than a trip to Zonko's from nearly every apprentice.

This was a Thursday, so Aries had all day free while Potter and Black had divination and history. Normally he used this time to do homework, but today the brunet decided that it was time to celebrate, which naturally meant his first good fly since the Forbidden Forest incident.

Not wanting to be accosted in the halls by Filch, Aries shifted into his cat form and took off down the halls. He loved running as a cat; it felt almost like flying; the complete freedom of movement, and the way the whole world suddenly seemed insignificant and easily conquered. He leapt from the floor to the stair banister without breaking stride, despite the fact that it was now a good three times his height, and ran straight down it as though taking a stroll on the safest ground, even though the banister was barely eight inches wide.

He leapt off the banister when he arrived at the first floor and dashed around a corner, heading for the entrance hall. However, whatever luck he had was not with him at that moment, and he bumped hard into something soft. Soft and…invisible.

James Potter suddenly materialized out of thin air.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"Hey cat," Potter said, smiling sadly. "What're you doing way down here?"

The black-haired Gryffindor bent down and, before Aries could recover from the collision enough to bolt away, picked him up and sat down against the wall.

"I've never seen you around here before," Potter muttered, stroking Aries' fur in a way that made him consider forgetting about flying and just sitting here. "Are you a Slytherin's cat? No, you were coming down from upstairs, weren't you cat? Who do you belong to, I wonder. A first year? Charles doesn't have a cat. Do you belong to that prat Hesuchazo?" Aries meowed, insulted. "Well, I know he can't be all that bad, but he's never even tried. It's like he just woke up the first day after he met us and decided he would rather be friends with Snape than with us. And now I find out that he's beaten me out of the Spellsmith apprenticeship.

"I've watched him in class; he's never the first, or even the second to get a spell. I mean, yeah, he's great in defense, but making spells is mostly charms work, and he never does that well in Flitwick's class. The only thing I can think of is that he's been holding back. What sort of idiot does that? If you don't show your full potential, you can't grow. That's what my mum taught me, anyway. She said you shouldn't bother doing anything at all if you're not going to give it everything you've got. I guess my everything wasn't good enough this time."

Aries meowed more softly, rubbing his head against his father's arm. He'd only wanted to get away before, but now he didn't know if he could stand for this to end. At the Dursley's, he would often dream of his father somehow appearing and gathering him up in his arms to take away. Even though his father was just an awkward teen right now, finally having those arms surround him felt so good. And it was so nice to hear his father talk for real, not when he was acting like an arrogant bully.

He purred and butted his head against James' chin, trying to reassure him that his everything was good enough for all the things that really mattered.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: So, what did you think? Oh, just in case any of my readers watch/read Bleach: no, Master Kon is not named after the bear, he's named after the Incan god of rain and wind. I think that's all I have to say.**

**PANTZ - Emerson**


	10. A Very Long Day

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary:** Monkey be not I.

**A/N:** Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry! I never ever meant for this chapter to take so long. I started writing it right after chapter 9, but only got two paragraphs in and hit a major block. Then a week ago my lap went haywire so I moved to the family comp and started the chap completely over again. It went much smoother, and I have high hopes for chapter 11. Now, on to the story!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**Chapter 10: A Very Long Day**

After the emotional – but slightly unsettling – meeting with his father, Aries was careful to stay out of his animagus form unless he was absolutely sure James Potter and the other marauders weren't around. This meant staying in human form all day, because that first meeting had happened when Potter was supposed to be in class – the prankster had skived off saying he was going to the hospital wing – and so Aries obviously couldn't count on knowing where Potter was, even if he knew where Potter was supposed to be. He had managed to get in a short flight during the afternoon classes, but nowhere near as long as he would have liked.

After dinner, Aries went to Professor McGonagall's office to get his new schedule. The normally strict woman graced him with a tight, proud smile as she handed him a slip of paper.

"You are a credit to Gryffindor house, Mr. Hesuchazo," she congratulated him.

He nodded, smiling back a little uncomfortably. It somehow didn't feel right that he, who had only been a member of the house for a few months in this time, was the one being a 'credit to his house'. How many students had heard those words from the harsh professor? Had his father? His mother? Back in his own time, had Hermione ever gotten such recognition? Or Neville Longbottom?

The brunet pushed the awkward thoughts away and bid McGonagall farewell, heading up to the dormitory so he could read his new schedule in peace. He was expecting to have only Charms, and possibly Transfiguration, taken over by Master Kon, so it was quite a shock to unfold the slip of paper and find that Defense was also missing, and his free Thursdays had been taken away. That meant that every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday he would be down in Hogsmead with Master Kon. He only kept Monday and Wednesday because he had Potions, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes those days.

Aries had the sudden feeling that he wasn't going to be bored much longer.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The next day was his first meeting with Master Kon. He was the only apprentice heading down to Hogsmead on Fridays because none of the other masters covered Defense or Charms, so the walk was solitary and quiet. At least Tuesdays he'd have Sev with him, because the Slytherin had Herbology Tuesday afternoons, which now fell under Master Magsuppe's jurisdiction. And Thursday would bring Remus out of the Care of Magical Creatures class. Today, though, he had to take the long walk from Hogwarts to the lecture hall alone.

Unlike the last time he'd been there, the great atrium of the hall was very empty and quiet, and his footsteps echoed off the walls. Aries was glad he'd left early, because it took him fifteen minutes of wandering through the winding corridors to find the correct room – AH153, which was, for some unknown magical reason, located through the men's changing room on the left side of the main stage.

"Finally found your way, I see," Master Kon said gruffly once he'd removed his cloak and settled down.

"Yes, Master Kon," Aries said, deciding it would probably be best to start out respectful.

"You will not call me that again," Master Kon ordered. "Master Kon is my father; you will call me Master Tobin. Do not mistake the use of my first name for any sign of familiarity, I merely do not wish to be mistaken for a 97 year old alchemist."

Aries barely had time to nod his understanding before Master Tobin continued, setting down a vial of some pale blue potion.

"Before we had our interview, I drank a cup of tea purposely laced with this. Do you know what it is?" Aries shook his head – he hadn't seen that potion before. "This is called True Sight, it is an upper-level potion designed to see through all sorts of glamour." The apprentice felt the blood drain from his face, but Master Tobin didn't seem to notice. "Your first task is to create a personalized glamour spell for yourself that cannot be seen through with this potion. I have numerous books on the subject of glamour spells and am available if you have any questions, but you are to do the work yourself. We will break for lunch at 12:15. Begin."

Aries took a few minutes to calm himself and stop hyperventilating. Master Tobin had seen through his disguise. Master Tobin had seen him and James Potter in close proximity and could likely guess a blood relationship; from there it would be just a hop skip and a jump to determining that Aries Hesuchazo didn't exist. In fact, with the amount of time between the interview and now, there was little doubt in Aries' mind that Master Tobin was already well aware of the deception. And yet…

And yet the man didn't seem to care in the slightest. About anything. Even now, while his apprentice sat with his head between his knees trying not to pass out from shock, Master Tobin was reading a copy of Charming Monthly and looking vaguely bored.

Aries calmed quickly after realizing that, truly, Master Tobin's only concern about the glamour pertained to its vulnerability to the potion. He fetched a roll of blank parchment, a bottle of ink and a quill from inside his bag, then reached across the table to the stacks of books on glamours. The first described the five classes of glamour – Diminutive, Cosmetic, Social, Mobile, and Forklednik (the last named for the Norwegian wizard who'd invented it). Aries and Charles had used the Forklednik since it was both the easiest to apply to the whole body and it was the only one that didn't light up like a neon sign under Magic Sight. However, all classes were vulnerable to the True Sight potion.

Aries found the recipe for the potion in the next book and wrote it down in equation format – something neither Snape nor Slughorn had bothered to go over, but that Hermione had taught him using a book that crossed Arithmancy with Potions. When he was done, he realized it was startlingly close to the formula for Veritaserum. In fact, he determined, the potion was basically a form of visual Veritaserum that, instead of forcing the drinker to tell the truth, forced the drinker to see the truth. It had originally been created by a paranoid man who wanted a way to see how people really felt about him – the fact that it saw through glamour was just a handy side effect.

Now that he had the effect isolated, he would have to analyze it more deeply. He went back to his equation and removed all the ingredients that also went into Veritaserum - the only the only ingredient for the truth serum that was missing was the raven's tongue, which loosened the drinker's lips. Finally, all he was left with were bayberry leaf, catnip, eyebright root, chizpurfle shell, horklump tentacle, and a chrysocolla crystal. These ingredients also seemed familiar, Aries thought to himself, chewing absently on his quill.

In fact…he mentally removed the chizpurfle shell and added unicorn fur instead, coming up with the first half of the Legillimency potion he'd found in the restricted section. That meant that the True Sight potion was Veritaserum projected from the eyes using Legillimency and altered with the chizpurfle shell to seek out magical disguises and deceptions! That meant that the countering spell would have to be grounded in Occlu-

"Lunch," Master Tobin announced, cutting off his apprentice's train of thought. Aries snapped his head up just in time to catch a glimpse of a house elf putting a tray of sandwiches on the table before the creature disappeared."While we eat you will tell me about your progress."

Aries explained, between mouthfuls of a delicious roast beef and provolone sandwich, what he had learned so far about the True Sight potion and why the glamours were weak against it. Master Tobin listened attentively, but said nothing, and Aries was eventually even able to finish his thought on how the defensible glamour would have to be shielded with Occlumency.

"That is what I had surmised as well," Master Tobin said when he was finished, both with speaking and with the meal. "Though I admit I am surprised at your foreknowledge of Occlumency and Legillimency. They are rare arts these days."

Aries automatically opened his mouth to say how his father was somewhat paranoid and had taught both magicks to him as soon as he could learn them, but Master Tobin held up a hand to stop any explanation.

"I do not care that you have secrets," he said sternly, "but I will not brook lies. If you cannot speak the truth, you will refrain from speaking. Understand?"

"Yes, Master Tobin," Aries responded, relieved. He wasn't particularly fond of lying.

After the empty lunch tray disappeared, Tobin returned to his magazine and Aries went back to work. Now that he understood the basis of the spell needed – and now that he understood Occlumency, thank you Remus – it shouldn't be that difficult at all to formulate the proper spell. He knew from his reading that Occlumency could do much more than hide the mind; in fact, that was just the first level of the art. Occlumency itself was the art of hiding, and could be used to hide the magical signature of spells, hide the fact that you were doing spells at all, or even hide yourself. Aries was quite certain that it was Occlumency that had allowed Professor Dumbledore to walk around invisible.

The Forklednik class of glamour used a certain amount of Occlumency to shield the spell from Magic Sight; yet it was still vulnerable to True Sight. Since the Veritaserum was activated through Legillimency, he would have to hide not only the spell, but also his true appearance and the fact that he was wearing glamour at all. That would be difficult to do with one spell, especially as the effects would have to be pretty much woven into his Occlumency shield. It was a good thing Master Tobin had specifically asked for the spell to be personalized, because Aries didn't think he could do it any other way.

He worked in silence until four o'clock, when Master Tobin vanished the books out from under him. His notes, thankfully, were left on the table, but the Spellsmith gathered those up by hand and placed them in a folder.

"You will not work on this outside of my supervision," he ordered. "However, I do expect you to keep in mind what you have found so far and what you intent to do. Also keep in mind that you will not even bring out your wand until you have come up with a firm spell diagram that has my approval."

Aries nodded, rubbing his eyes wearily. He hadn't noticed it before, while he'd been absorbed in the books, but he was very tired. Master Tobin pulled out the magazine again while his apprentice put his ink and quill back in his bag and left.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

As soon as the door had closed behind the supposed brunet, Tobin pushed the horrifically gossipy magazine away and pulled out Aries' notes, intensely curious to see how far the boy had gotten.

When Aries Hesuchazo had first walked into the interview room, Tobin had thought he was that arrogant James Potter come back to pester him with more examples of childish pranks. Then he'd gotten a good look at his face and noticed a few key differences, the first of which being the very fact that Aries was wearing glamour. The strange boy's application hadn't really been that spectacular – in fact, the most promising attribute was how Aries had waited to speak until he was spoken to. Really, the only reason Tobin had chosen Aries Hesuchazo was because of his own curiosity. He figured he would keep the boy as an 'apprentice' until he'd learned his secrets, then dump him and move on.

However, during today's lunch, he'd gotten a very pleasant surprise – Aries, amazingly, had a decent brain (Actually the surprise had come earlier when Aries didn't pester him with questions at every step, but he'd just supposed the boy was slacking off or daydreaming). And looking at the notes now, it seemed that the brief impression he'd gotten over lunch wasn't mistaken. In fact, if Aries continued at this rate he'd likely have an impenetrable disguise within the month.

Perhaps he'd keep the boy as his apprentice after all…

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries stopped off at Honeydukes before heading back and got a couple chocolate frogs. He took the secret passage from there, since the weather was a bit too nasty for a pleasant walk outside, and headed straight for the Room of Requirement. Sev and Charles were already waiting when he got there. Charles was reading a book on curses while sprawled on a couch that had appeared in the middle of the Room, looking like he'd been there all day, but Severus was pacing restlessly.

"How did it go?" Charles drawled.

"Pretty good, I think," Aries admitted, making a mental note to talk to Charles alone as soon as possible. He eyed Sev's frazzled state. "Did something happen?"

"Potter and his bunch are being prats again, that's all," Charles closed his book and tossed it on the other side of the couch. "Since Remus has gone home for the weekend, James and Sirius decided that all apprentices were fair game. They tried to glue a cauldron to Sev's head, and I think they were trying to conjure an anvil for when you got back. Finally I told them I had to ask Slughorn something and came up here with Sev."

Aries took a seat and stretched his neck, trying to relax the bunching muscles. Sev sat down opposite him, still strangely silent.

"Won't they be suspicious when you don't come back?" Aries asked.

"Nah, they don't care," Charles waved away his concern. "They really prefer it when I'm not there, I think."

Aries nodded, that made sense with the number of secrets that group had. He turned to the Slytherin. "What about you, Sev. How's your day been?"

Charles laughed as Sev's face flushed angrily.

"You won't get any answers out of him," said the redhead. "He managed to hex Black before they got the cauldron on his head, but then Potter started to duel him. Sev won, in the end, but Potter managed to vanish his voice box."

"Ah," Aries said mildly. "It's a good thing you're pretty good with unspoken spells then, eh Severus?"

Sev glared.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

It took until almost midnight to find the proper spell to restore Sev's speech, and by then Aries wasn't the only one stretching his neck. Since it was so long after curfew already, Charles and Sev left as soon as possible – they were the ones most likely to get into trouble if they were caught – but Aries only really had to worry about Slughorn, who wasn't known for nighttime wanderings. So the brunet stayed long after his friends were gone, working out the kinks in his back and shoulders with stretching and exercise.

He was more tired afterward than he had been before, but he felt so much better he decided to go back to the common room in his animal form. Being a cat always helped him loosen up and relax.

Ten minutes later, Aries realized he really should have known better than to have any hope of a peaceful night.

He had just reached the corridor that led to the Pink Lady when he smelled something. Several somethings, actually – a confusing amalgamation of animal and human scents approaching. Like deja-vu, he tried to bolt, only to feel a pair of hands lift him into the air.

"Why hello again, cat!" James Potter exclaimed, throwing the invisibility cloak off of himself and Sirius, who was carrying Peter in rat form. Aries caught sight of his watch and realized it was near dawn on the night of the full moon – they must be coming back from a night-time romp with Remus.

"Who's that, Prongs?" Sirius asked curiously.

"A cat I who ran into me yesterday," James replied, smiling openly. "He's very friendly. Say hello to Padfoot, cat!"

Potter held Aries out toward Sirius, but as soon as he got close enough, Aries took a swipe at Wormtail, hissing angrily. His emotions were much harder to control as a cat, and he couldn't contain his revulsion at the boy who would grow up to betray his parents.

"Whoa, there!" James pulled Aries back quickly. "What's gotten into you, cat?"

"You can hardly blame him," Sirius laughed, "after all, dear Wormtail _is_ a rat! But you can't keep calling him 'cat'. Doesn't he have a name?"

Aries meowed unhappily and James turned him over and all around searching for a tag or identification.

"Doesn't look like it," the messy-haired teen mused. "Well, we'll just have to give him a Marauder's name, won't we Padfoot?"

Sirius agreed, but had them all go up to the dormitory first. Wormtail changed back and James put silencing charms on the closed curtains of Aries and Charles' beds. The cat wondered how often the four did that, and decided to put up spell-detecting wards so he could be alerted the next time.

"Stupid cat," Pettigrew muttered sullenly, sitting on his bed – as far as he could get from James and Aries.

Aries mewed restlessly and tried to wriggle out of James' hands, but he could smell that Potter's family had a cat back at their house, and the boy knew how to keep hold of him. Still, he didn't stop trying to escape; this was not a situation he liked. Being alone with his father was one thing, but being around Pettigrew and Black was something else entirely.

"So, what should we call him?" James asked, scratching Aries absently behind the ears.

"How about Quickstrike, for how he lashed out at Pete?" Sirius suggested with a mischievous grin.

"How about Inkface, instead?" Peter retorted, scowling. James laughed as Aries meowed indignantly. _Inkface, really!_

"I was thinking something along the lines of Shadow, or Darkcloak – since he always seems to find me when I'm under my cloak," said James. "Anyway, we can't decide until all the Marauders are here, so we'll let Moony have his pick tomorrow in the hospital wing. Do you want to sleep on my bed tonight, cat?"

Aries meowed again, trying to say 'No, I bloody well don't!', but James was not exactly fluent in cat.

"Good!" the black-haired teen exclaimed, smiling brightly. "Sirius, will you close the door so he doesn't go running about during the night?"

Sirius nodded and shut the door tight, then cancelled the silencing charms. The three boys quietly got into bed and lay down. They were asleep almost instantly, which was fortunate for Aries.

The cat shifted quickly back into a human, opened the door a crack, and went to his own bed.

_What a day!_ he thought, before he cleared his mind and let himself drift into sleep.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: So, what did you think? Sorry again for taking so long, I'll try and get the next chapter up soon. Things are going to be picking up speed here soon, so don't worry – I'm not going to take hundreds of chapters to get Aries and Charles back to the present.**

**PANTZ - Emerson**


	11. The Decision

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary:** No more monkeys jumping on the bed.

**A/N: **I think I'll just have to resign myself to one update per month. On the plus side, I've worked out a timeline for most of this fic. We're about 1/8 of the way through it, but considering we've got twenty years to get through, that ain't bad! Anyway, here's the chappy, enjoy:

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**Chapter 11: The Decision  
**

The next morning, the marauders slept very late, giving Aries the opportunity to drag Charles up to the Room before anyone would miss him. The Room had responded to his need for security by adding a few locks to the door, but Aries added a several strong wards, just to be sure.

"What's this about, Aries?" Charles asked, quirking an eyebrow at him

"We've got a problem," Aries answered. He told Charles about the True Sight potion and how Master Tobin had already seen his real face, and included what he'd learned so far about a countercharm.

"This is bad," Charles muttered anxiously. "This is very bad."

"It's not a crisis, really. Master Tobin doesn't even seem to care that I'm not who I say I am, so long as I can do the work."

"And what happens in two years when Harry Potter is born?" Charles demanded. "What happens a year from then when Harry Potter gets a lightning-bolt scar across his forehead?"

"Well, I don't even know if he saw my scar," Aries protested. "And it's not like I can fix it now. What are you so worried about, anyway? You said we can't change the past."

"It's not the past I'm worried about, you git!" Charles shouted, startling Aries. "Look, think like a Slytherin for just a second here; I know you can. You are at a disadvantage. In three years, this man will probably know exactly who you are. You'll still have sixteen years after that before you can afford to make your identity public. That means that for sixteen years he holds your life in his hands. Excuse me if I don't like that fact!"

Aries blinked, nonplussed. Was Charles actually worried…for _him_? This was such an odd concept that it took him a few moments to actually register what exactly his friend had said, but when he did he had to sit down rather abruptly.

"You mean…blackmail?" he asked shakily. "Why would he blackmail _me_?"

Charles snorted. "Are you joking? You're Harry Potter! If you'd had anything to keep secret in our time, you probably would have been paying half a dozen people regularly just to stop the threats! Even if you don't have access to your vault, you're still magically powerful, and your name means something. Tobin Kon would have to be an idiot not to exploit his advantage. At least he can't hold it over you forever, since when we get back to where we left the truth comes out and he loses, but still; sixteen years is a long time."

"But what can I do about it?" Aries demanded. "He's a Master Spellsmith! There's no way I could get the drop on him enough to Obliviate him; and even if I did, there'd still be the problem of the True Sight potion – we need to shield against that, and I need Master Tobin's help to figure it out."

Charles and Aries were both silent, contemplating a rough situation.

"I guess," the redhead said hesitantly, "I guess we just hope for the best, and protect ourselves as best we can."

Aries sighed deeply; optimism in a Slytherin was a bad thing. They only 'hoped for the best' when there was literally nothing they could do to keep the situation from getting worse.

_How amusing_, he thought cynically, _that Slytherins only see hope at the point when everyone else loses it._

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

If Sev noticed that Aries and Charles were rather subdued, he didn't mention it, not even when Aries announced that they weren't going to be practicing the patronus charm that day. Instead, the three friends just sat and relaxed for once. Sev and Charles played a couple rousing games of chess while Aries read a few obscure books on spell theory that the Room provided. They weren't directly helpful to his assignment, but they did contain a few tips that might come in handy anyway.

Despite his newfound fervor for studying, however, Aries was not and never would be Hermione Granger. By the time Charles and Sev finished their third chess game, Aries was setting the gym up again.

"Are you planning on getting sweaty again?" Charles called across the much larger room.

"I need to work off some energy, yes," Aries replied, laughing. "I'll probably come back after dinner as well, if either of you'd like to join me."

Sev stood and stretched his back, setting off a short series of pops that made Charles wince.

"Alas, I'm afraid I must start reviewing my potions books now, to get ready for Tuesday. So I will have to politely decline your offer to turn my muscles into powdered mush."

"I have other business as well," Charles added. "Potter and Black are throwing a bit of a party for Remus. Plenty of butterbeer and probably some smuggled firewhiskey as well. I hope you remembered to ward your bed tonight, Aries."

"No worries." The brunet waved a hand dismissively. "I even added a couple extra after Potter caught me as a cat and tried to adopt me."

Severus and Charles got a good laugh out of that, then waved a cheerful goodbye as Aries set up the weights. By the time Aries finished his exercise routine, he felt immeasurably better. His muscles ached pleasantly, and all the stress he'd been feeling before had melted away. He was still nervous about Master Tobin, but that confrontation was four years away, no use worrying about it already.

In fact, the only thing he planned on worrying about at the moment was whether or not Remus had made it through the full moon alright. There was still time before curfew, maybe he could go up and visit. _After all_, Aries thought, _we're at least study partners, if not friends._

But no one was supposed to know that Remus was in the hospital wing. He'd supposedly gone home to visit his family. Aries couldn't very well just waltz into the infirmary and ask to see him. Then again, no one ever asked about visiting cats.

Smirking, Aries transformed and took off for the hospital wing, keeping his nose and ears open this time for any signs of the Marauders. He didn't even catch a sniff of them until he got to the corridor by the hospital wing, and even then he could tell that the tracks were leading away. Relieved, he quietly slipped through the swinging doors and into the darkened room.

Aries stalked down the rows of beds, looking for Remus. His nose would have been helpful as well, but he had yet to encounter Remus' scent while in cat form. Still, he could see well enough in the dark to know that all the beds in the main infirmary were empty. Perhaps there was a side room he didn't know about? Aries' tail twitched as he looked around, but the only doors present were the entrance doors and a door the Gryffindor knew led to Poppy's office. Making a vague noise of displeasure, Aries shifted to Magic Sight; he'd never before done that as a cat, and it put such an added strain on his eyes that he knew he'd have a monster of a headache tomorrow, but he could see the hidden door and the way to open it! Oddly enough, puddle on the floor right outside the masked entrance, was Potter's invisibility cloak.

Practically prancing, Aries loped across the floor to the supposed window, enchanted to look just like the other windows beside it, and bumped a thumbnail-sized picture of a moon with his paw. The glass dissolved, giving Aries open entry into the room. Werewolf senses, he knew, were a touch more sensitive than normal humans', and more so around the full moon, so Aries nosed his way under the cloak and walked into the room.

Remus was fast asleep on the bed, turned on his side with his hands arranged like paws in front of his chest. To Aries' cat nose, he reeked of blood, but he could already see that the wounds had been healed. He hoped they hadn't been very bad in the fist place.

Suddenly, Remus' whole body twitched and he let out a small, yip-like noise that startled Aries out of his skin. He jumped straight up in the air, landing on the bedside table and sending about three bags of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans clattering to the floor. Worst of all was the fact that the cloak had all but fallen off, leaving his head and shoulders exposed to Remus' now very much awake gaze.

"Mmm…cat?" Remus muttered sleepily. He blinked a few times before coming more fully awake and sitting up. "Are you the one James keeps talking about?"

Aries blinked.

Remus slowly raised a hand toward him, letting Aries sniff his palm and then rub his head against it.

"Well look at that, you're not afraid of me," the werewolf said with a certain amount of wonder. Aries supposed that most natural animals would instinctively fear the scent of a werewolf, but as an animagus he didn't have those instincts.

"You must be the cat James kept ranting about while he was in here, wanting me to pick one of those idiotic nicknames," Remus rambled, stroking Aries down his back, his hand coming in contact with the cloak just in front of the cat's tail. "And what's this? Is that James's…It is, isn't it? He said something about you and that thing when he was talking about naming you Darkcloak. Horrid name for a cat, in my opinion. Yet you do seem to be unnaturally attracted to it."

Aries mewed and leaned into Remus' hand, hoping to distract him from any unnatural behavior. Thankfully, Remus was still too tired to be really clever, and his thoughts stayed firmly on names.

"A cat's name should be short, especially for a cat as short as you," said Remus, making Aries want to bat him over the head, though he graciously refrained. "Darkcloak, Quickstrike; even if they weren't horrid, they're just too long. Quick, maybe; or Dark…no that's too cheesy. Cloak then, yeah, just Cloak."

And, to Aries' horror, Remus pulled a pad of paper and a quill off the bedside table and scrawled '_His name is Cloak'_ on a scrap piece. The werewolf then pinned the note to the invisibility cloak with a charm and placed them both on Aries' back.

"There you go, take that to James, will you Cloak?" Remus asked, smiling sleepily. Aries huffed and jumped off the bed.

_Well_, he thought sarcastically, _at least it's better than Inkface._

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The next week was rather blissfully dull. Aries hung out with Sev and Charles whenever possible, chatting about anything and everything, and made a few strategic appearances as Cloak so the Marauders wouldn't seek him out. His sessions with Master Tobin were proceeding well and he was sketching a preliminary spell diagram when the letters arrived that would wipe away the dullness for a while to come.

Both owls arrived at the same – one to Severus, and one to Aries. The handwriting was unfamiliar, so the brunet skipped to the bottom and was astounded when he read the signature: Arnold Septemius Prince Snape, Auror. He looked up and saw Sev staring at his letter with a similar befuddlement. Aries doubted his brother had ever owled him at school before. Sev glanced at him, then looked questioningly at the parchment in Aries' hands; the brunet nodded shortly and looked back at the letter.

_Dear Aries,_

_My brother has spoken much of you, and I hope you will forgive my forwardness in contacting you myself. The ministry, you understand, was very interested in the results of the apprenticeship interviews, and I was quite pleased to note that a member of my own family had become an Apprentice. In his excitement about this fact, Severus wrote home to tell the family – I'm sorry to say our father was less than supportive, but I assure you I give him all my encouragement. In his letter, Severus also mentioned that his good friend Aries had also achieved the lauded Spellsmith Apprenticeship, with none other than Master Tobin Kon._

_It may come as no surprise that a young man with such talent as you no doubt possess would be much sought after in numerous circles. My formal employer, the ministry, would undoubtedly under appreciate your talents, so I come to you as a representative, not of any official business, but of a private enterprise. A political group I have discreetly aligned myself with has been searching for a Spellsmith for a long time, and will give you all the reward you deserve for your growing skills._

_You do not have to answer right away – I understand completely the suddenness of such a promising proposal. Rest assured though, that my group and I will be following your progress closely. Any time you wish to find yourself surrounded by those who respect the skills of a Spellsmith, even an apprentice, we will be in reach. I wish you all the luck in the world in your ventures, and I'll be in touch._

_Sincerely,_

_Arnold Septemius Prince Snape, Auror_

The message of the letter could not be clearer, no matter how much Arnold tried to dance around it. Aries was actually being invited to join the Death Eaters, most likely as soon as he finished at Hogwarts. A shudder went through him at the thought of aligning himself with Voldemort – receiving that cursed mark on his arm. He felt eyes on him and looked up to see a shaky, paler than normal Sev staring back at him.

With a tilt of his head toward the door, Aries and Sev were both headed out into the hall. They stayed silent until they made it to the Room of Requirement, which formed itself into a small, cozy study with a sturdy lock on the door.

"Aries," Sev started, his voice hoarse, "did he send you…is that from my brother?" Aries nodded. Sev sighed, and nodded pensively. "As is mine."

"What does yours say?" Aries asked. Sev shoved the letter into his hand wordlessly and turned away, leaving Aries to unfold it and read.

_Dearest Brother,_

_I was most excited to learn that you had achieved the impressive position of Apprentice to a Potions Master. Father wasn't impressed, but what more can you expect of a muggle? I assure you, mother and I are both most proud of you, and know that you will do our Prince line justice when you reach the rank of Master._

_You are most likely aware from your time during winter hols (which was most enjoyable for me, and, I hope, for you as well) that, though my primary work is for the Auror Department, I have also been doing some work on the side for a private interest of mine. He was most intrigued when I told him that my own brother would soon have Mastered the art of potions, as quality potions masters are, indeed, quite hard to come by. It just so happens that my employer sees a need in the near future to have a potions master on staff, and he agrees that having one who is related to a current employee is most fortuitous._

_Now, don't be hasty, I'm sure you are ready to jump at such an opportunity, but you must put your education first, little brother. My employer and I can wait until you are ready to come to us. Until then, I will stay in touch, and hope you will continue to send me letters of your progress and your friends._

_With love, your brother,_

_Arnold S. Prince_

Aries swallowed, though his mouth was dry.

"Well, that's clear enough, isn't it?" he asked lightly, though the chalky quality of his voice rather ruined any humor there might have been. Inside, his mind was running in circles.

_This is how it happens_, he thought suddenly, _this is how Severus becomes a Death Eater. His own brother is recruiting him. Recruiting us. I can't tell him not to join, because he will, he has to in order for the future to stay the same. So what do I do?_

"What do we do?" Sev asked, echoing Aries' thoughts.

The Gryffindor took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't know," he admitted. "We don't have to make a decision for a while yet, right? So let's just think about it for a while."

"You…you'd actually consider it?" Sev asked, sounding shocked and, Aries noted, a little relieved.

"Well, I don't know! I mean, I just…" The brunet sighed. "I just don't…know."

Severus nodded edgily, as if he hadn't expected anything more, and ran anxious fingers over the odd trinkets and knick-knacks the Room had conjured. A miniature globe; a brass poodle statue; an award for special services to the school for one Tom Riddle. Aries felt hysterical laughter bubble up within him and he sat down quickly before it could escape, falling into deep thought.

By the time he looked up, Severus was gone and the Room had changed. In the place of the study walls and bookshelves were mirrors. Placing every magical lock and ward he knew on the door, Aries stepped up and looked at his reflection; he spoke the incantation that would remove his glamour and saw, for the first time in months, his true face.

It was like looking at a stranger. Intellectually, he easily recognized the messy black hair, green eyes, and glasses as traits of his own face, but there wasn't the instant recognition he had with his face – Aries' face.

"I am Harry Potter," he whispered, almost afraid to admit it aloud. Harry continued, more confident, when nothing catastrophic occurred. "I am Harry Potter; I was born July 31, 1981 to James and Lily Potter. Someday, I will defeat Voldemort, but not for at least," he made a few quick calculations in his head, "nineteen years, nine months. Until then I have to stay alive."

So far, so good. He'd told himself what he already knew, which was, at least, a start. Carding a hand through his hair – which was longer than he ever remembered it being – he forged ahead.

"This is war, a war in which people on both sides, and even those who want to stay neutral, will die. There is no safe place. However, if the prophecy is to be believed, I will only be killed by Voldemort's hand, if I am to be killed at all. So the safest way to go would be to make Voldemort not want to kill me. The only people Voldemort doesn't want dead are his followers."

Harry looked down at the note in his hand, slightly crumpled, but still clearly bearing its message of invitation – if 'invitation' were the right word for it. He really didn't like where his logic was taking him.

"Severus Snape is my friend. At some point he will join the Death Eaters. Shortly before I'm born, he'll become a spy for Dumbledore. That's still almost three years away. Dumbledore will need a spy before then. Voldemort would be very glad to have a qualified Spellsmith, and might spill some key secrets. Plus I can stick closer to Sev that way."

He looked back at his reflection, but it didn't have anymore answers. Harry didn't think he needed any, but he would have liked the reassurance. At least, after having lived around his parents for the last few months, he thought they would approve of his decision. His father valued friendship over anything else, and believed in sticking together through thick and thin. His mother saw the shades of grey in the world, and would understand having to accept a lesser evil in exchange for the eventual destruction of the greater.

With a little bit more certainty in his life than when he'd entered the Room, Harry reapplied his glamour and left. He would have to be discreet in talking to Sev about it, and he was absolutely positive Charles would scream at him because of it, but he had made his decision.

Aries Hesuchazo would join the Death Eaters.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: There you go, that's how it happened. Ironically, it's not how I originally planned it to happen in the original version of the story, but that's okay, right? Anyway, what did you think?**


	12. Being Late

**Disclaimer:** Jo's world, I just live here

**Summary: **Monkey paws grant wishes, but I only have pet fishes.

**A/N: **During the time I was working on this chapter, I stopped being lazy and made a timeline for the fic. Unfortunately, I no sooner made the timeline than I realized I had forgotten a rather central part of the plot, and that this chapter deviated from the timeline in a potentially drastic way. I don't think I'll make timelines anymore.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**Chapter 12: Being Late**

The first stop Aries had to make was with Dumbledore. There were likely dozens of official documents that the ministry was supposed to have for each member of the wizarding world, and Dumbledore was the only man Aries knew who would be able to forge those documents and slip them into their proper places. The last thing he needed was a Death Eater/Auror figuring out that he wasn't who he said he was. That could easily put him in danger on all sides, and possibly, by association – they _had_ both arrived at the same time – Charles.

Of course, he would not be telling the Headmaster that the reason he wanted all this documentation taken care of now was because he didn't want Voldemort to suddenly become curious about a potential recruit with no paper background. Dumbledore would naturally attempt to talk him out of it, and though Aries respected the man greatly, he really didn't want to have Dumbledore overly curious either. True, as a time-traveler he could always refrain from answering a question that would reveal too much, but just the knowledge of which questions couldn't be answered would be far more information than was healthy for the space time continuum.

Not knowing the password, he had to wait at the gargoyle for Dumbledore to let him in, but it was only a small delay, and soon he was up in the circular office, sucking on a lemon drop.

"Now, my dear boy, as I know you have no shortage of sweets, may I ask why you have come to visit me?" Dumbledore inquired kindly.

"I'm afraid this isn't a social call, Headmaster," said Aries, "I have some business to take care of." He relaxed back into the chair, making sure his expression revealed nothing of how anxious he was inside.

"Ah," Dumbledore sighed. "You know you can ask for anything, and if it is within my power…" Aries nodded distractedly.

"Don't worry, Headmaster, it's nothing terrible," he lied, "I just wondered what documentation has been done for Charles and me, and what needs to be done. I'd like to take care of that as soon as possible."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, resting his hands in front of his snowy beard.

"That is quite a bit of business, young Aries," the old professor said, twinkling. "There are a good many documents that would be expected for a wizard of your background – not nearly so many for Charles, as he is fortunate enough to be both a transfer student and the son of squibs. As there is no documentation whatsoever for squibs, and only a general school history with the most recent grades required for transfer students, I have already taken care of Charles' paper trail."

"And for myself, sir?" Aries demanded.

"For a wizard born to magical parents, there is a great deal more required," Dumbledore admitted. "I created a temporary birth certificate with the names of your parents and your birthday, which I gleaned from your and Charles' most interesting duels during the summer. It is enough for casual perusal, but any true searching would reveal it as false, as a valid birth certificate uses a small amount of the baby's blood. Also, we would need a proof of citizenship for your father, OWL and NEWT records for both mother and father, your own OWL records, mother's proof of magic certificate – "

"What?" Aries interrupted. He'd never heard of that last one.

"A proof of magic certificate," Dumbledore repeated easily. "It is given to muggleborn wizards and witches when the ministry first notices accidental magic, and must be shown to Ollivander before they can receive their first wand. It is meant to serve as a muggleborn's first introduction into the wizarding world, but," the headmaster shook his head sadly, "it has come to be just another way to persecute muggleborns. Some employers require a proof of magic certificate from muggleborns who wish to be hired. In any case, we would need one for your mother, as a copy is kept in Ministry records. Also, a medical scan from just before your entry to Hogwarts – that can either be forged completely, or done now and altered slightly to cover the time difference."

Aries thought of his famous scar, and the time he'd had all the bones in his right arm regrown, and the time a basilisk had bitten him, and all the other hundreds of suspicious injuries that might show up.

"It would probably be best if we make that from scratch," he admitted.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Severus had watched Aries' face as he read the letter from his brother with baited breath. The offer was so tempting already, despite all he knew to the contrary. After all, Aries' own mother was muggleborn, and there was nothing wrong with him! And Charles – his parents were descendents of squibs, _Americans_ at that, and he still acted like a proper wizard.

Perhaps magic itself had something to do with it. Maybe muggleborns weren't bad in and of themselves, they were just too close to the muggles – muggles, of course, being the real problem. They were hardly even human; non-magical and uncivilized brutes who wanted to crush anything they didn't understand.

VV/V_ flashback _/VV/V

_"Dad! Dad!" Arnold rushed excitedly into the parlor. _

_Ten year old Severus scowled at his book; with his brother home, their father would never notice him again that summer._

"_Dad! Slytherin won the House Cup in Quidditch!" Arnold exclaimed, holding up a shiny looking medal. "I caught the Quaffle almost every time, too!"_

"_Quidditch, that's your kind's sport, right?" their father asked, squinting in thought. Arnold nodded excitedly. "Ah, I always knew you'd be great at sports, Arnie. You always make me so proud. You'll be a great man if you can keep up that winning attitude."_

_Arnold smiled proudly, then caught sight of Severus._

"_How are you doing, kid?" he asked, sitting on the couch next to him. "Mum said you made a flawless Shrinking Solution last week. Good job! I didn't get that one right until my third year, and you're not even _in_ Hogwarts yet."_

_Severus felt a small flicker of pride before their father slapped him on the side of the head, sending him to the floor._

"Potions_, bah!" the old man sneered disdainfully. "That's just like cooking. It's woman's work, I tell you. In this house your mother cooks. Arnie and I play sports like men. Do you really want to be a woman that bad, Severus?"_

_The child didn't answer, knowing it was better to just keep his head down and his eyes on the floor while his father laughed. Just a few seconds later, he heard Arnold storm from the room, and their father left soon after._

VV/V _end flashback _/VV/V

That scene had been just one of a hundred others like it during his childhood. It just wasn't right. Why did his mother have to marry a muggle? Everyone knew they weren't anything like wizard kind, they just couldn't understand properly. The idea of helping to force all muggle influence out of the wizarding world, while being appreciated for his skills, was not something he wanted to pass up out of hand.

So, when Aries sighed in frustration and said they should 'think about it', Sev's hopes rose. He had been so sure that the brunet would be angry, would denounce him then and there if he had expressed any interest in the idea. Afterward, when Aries had sunk down into his chair, deep in thought, Sev was only marginally worried. His friend, he had noted, had a tendency to lose himself when he was concentrating; if anything, it was reassuring to know that Aries was, indeed, 'thinking about it'.

Severus left him alone then – he had an apprenticeship to prepare for. Aires did, too, as a matter of fact. The Slytherin thought about snapping him out of it so he could get ready, but decided that Aries would likely finish his thoughts on his own before time came to leave.

After all, Aries wasn't fool enough to be late for an apprenticeship!

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

A good while later, Aries emerged from the spiral staircase quite satisfied. He now had an authentic birth certificate containing three drops of his own blood, as well as several other very official-looking documents, to back up his fake identity. Aries Hesuchazo wasn't just a name anymore. No, he was now a licensed citizen of wizarding Britain, a person with a past and a future; a person who was late for his Apprentice lesson!

Aries rushed out of the castle, taking the stairs four at a time. Even though he knew no amount of speed now could make up the hour he was already late. Master Tobin would kill him! The last time he'd been late he'd had to fight his way through three layers of wards, and that was just five minutes. Oh he was in for it this time…

_That was an understatement,_ Aries thought twenty minutes later. He had arrived at Hogsmead just in time to see Master Tobin storming out of the lecture hall. The disgruntled man happened to see him standing there and made a beeline for him, coming so quickly that Aries wondered if it might be smarter to run. Master Tobin grabbed him by his scarf and dragged him to a store corner, just outside of the main traffic flow, pointed his wand straight up and snapped, "_Obliviatego_." A ward, invisible to the naked eye, but which shimmered like a soap bubble in Magic Sight, surrounded them.

"You listen to me, Apprentice Hesuchazo," Master Tobin growled, looking absolutely furious. "I don't care what secrets you hold, and I don't care how skilled you think you are. My time is a hundred fold more valuable than yours, and if you don't have a _damn_ good reason for keeping me waiting over an hour, I will kick you out so fast your wand will spin."

Aries almost choked; being a Spellsmith was key to his plans! If he was kicked out, everything would go to rot.

"Master Tobin, please!" he exclaimed. "I can explain!"

The man leaned against the wall of the store, regarding him coolly.

"Get on with it then," he said finally, impatiently. "And no lies."

"Right, no lies," Aries agreed, relieved. He could at least do that much, with Master Tobin already knowing he was a fraud. "I was with Dumbledore, taking care of my documentation under this name."

Master Tobin scowled; apparently, this wasn't good enough.

"Why did you feel the need to do this today, when you knew you were expected elsewhere, rather than on a free day?" he demanded.

"I," Aries stammered. How much of this could he tell? He really didn't want anyone, even Master Tobin, guessing what he was planning. Well, he'd have to give up a little bit of it, or he'd find himself scrounging to find another job that would keep Voldemort interested. "I got a letter today, which led me to believe that…that the Death Eaters may be interested in Aries Hesuchazo. I didn't want them knowing that I don't exist, so I had to go to Dumbledore."

Master Tobin's expression didn't change, not at the mention of Death eaters, nor at the admission of fraud. Aries tried not to fidget as the man stared at him for almost a full minute.

"Who are you?" Master Tobin asked suddenly.

"What?" Aries blinked.

"Who. Are. You," the Spellsmith repeated, enunciating carefully. "Why are you pretending to be someone who doesn't exist? Why all the secrets? I've been patient enough with my apprentice; I want answers."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Severus slowly stirred his potion. He had set a Tempus alarm on his wand, so he was free to let his mind wander. As happened more frequently these days, it wandered to Aries. He hadn't seen his fellow apprentice since leaving him to his thoughts in the Room – not in the castle, not on the road to Hogsmead, and not in the village itself. From what Aries had said of his interactions with his master, the Spellsmith wasn't one to take tardiness lightly. Not like Master Magsuppe. Although he would never be late himself, Severus was relatively certain that he could easily excuse himself from a lesson with something as simple as a sniffle.

The man walked in as Severus was thinking and peeked over the edge of the apprentice's cauldron, examining the potion bubbling within. With each stir, it was slowly turning from a thick forest green to a thinner, apparently blue color. He could only hope that was the desired result, as Master Magsuppe had removed all progress markers from the instructions, leaving only the bare ingredients and stirring directions. Severus' challenge was to determine what the potion would do by the time he finished.

"Everything going alright, Severus?" the potions master asked pleasantly. He was a generally pleasant man, really – not as tall as Severus, but not short either, with a body that more thick than thin, but by no means fat. Thinning curls of light auburn hair topped off a slightly round head and completed the friendly image.

"I believe so, Master," Severus answered blandly.

His wand, on the table near his hand, flashed bright blue at the tip for a moment, letting him know he was done stirring, and he removed the wooden spoon, letting the excess of now watery, egg shell blue potion drip off and back into the cauldron before setting the tool aside.

"Have you figured out what the end result will be yet?" Master Magsuppe inquired.

"Not yet," the Slytherin admitted easily. He still had three more hours of brewing left, after all.

Severus reached for the boiled rosemary leaves, adding them in at the four points – North, South, East and West – at the same time mentally recording the properties of the plant and the placing. Rosemary generally stood for remembrance and fidelity, while the use of the four points signified that the effects of the potion were to extend beyond the drinker, perhaps altering something in his environment; perhaps the idea was to make someone else remember him or be loyal to him? But the next ingredient was a half-ounce of powdered Graphorn horn, added at one minute intervals – Graphorn were solitary creatures, so the effects of the horn could counteract the social effect of the rosemary, unless it were weakened by spacing out the delivery.

None of the potions he had been forced to figure out before had been quite so puzzling as this one, that was for sure. Sev's hands moved on automatic as he followed the instructions.

He hoped Aries had made it alright.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries warmed his hands on the cup of tea Master Tobin had given him. After laying out his demand for Aries' true identity, the Spellsmith had stopped his apprentice from saying anything, instead canceling the unknown ward and leading Aries back to his office in the lecture hall. More traditional wards were set and a house elf was called before the brunet was allowed to talk.

"What was that ward you used out there?" he asked, blowing over the hot liquid.

"That was my journeyman piece," Master Tobin grunted. "It's called a Forgetfulness Ward; anything anyone sees or hears inside is forgotten when they pass through the ward threads. Now stop stalling. Tell me your real name and why you're hiding behind a fake identity, or resign from being my apprentice."

Aries took a sip of the tea to calm his nerves. Why did this have to happen now? Couldn't his life just be normal for more than a week at a time? He snorted; if that ever happened he'd probably die of boredom.

"Very well," Aries sighed. Raising his wand, he cancelled the glamour for the second time that day. "My name is Harry Potter."

"Lie," Master Tobin countered wearily. "When I realized your resemblance to James Potter I looked through every record of the Potter family. The last 'Harry Potter' died in the muggle witch hunts."

Harry blinked at this unexpected revelation. He would have to sort through that information later, though.

"It isn't a lie, but it's true you won't find any record of me yet," he admitted. "After all, I won't be born until 1980."

Master Tobin immediately fell silent, staring at Harry in that odd way he had – not quite like a Legillimens, but still disconcerting. Somehow he got the impression that the man was looking at him through Magic Sight, but why? Was he hoping to spot some lingering threads of time travel? Perhaps a hidden time-turner? Harry didn't know, but he wished Master Tobin would say something.

The awkward silence stretched on for several more minutes, during which Harry acquainted himself quite thoroughly with the titles of the books in Master Tobin's bookshelf. Then, quite suddenly, the older man stood up and walked to that very same bookshelf, reached _inside_ one of the books – _Head and Hammer_ by Gerald Migran – and pulled out a bottle of expensive-looking gin. Not that Harry was an expert on what expensive alcohol looked like, but it was decorated similarly to the bottles Uncle Vernon only broke into for Aunt Marge.

"It's far too early in the year for something like this," Master Tobin muttered, conjuring a shot glass.

Harry watched, bemused, as his master casually downed enough alcohol to knock out Hagrid.

"So…" he began hesitantly, but Master Tobin cut him off.

"For Merlin's sake, put your glamour back on, Hesuchazo. Now get out your spell diagrams, and for the love of the space time continuum be _quiet,_ while I endeavor to forget everything you just told me through muggle means."

Aries did as he was told. Pulling out his rough sketch of a spell diagram, he set about refining it and turning it into something he could present to Master Tobin.

Once the man was sober again, that is.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: Muahahahaha! Finally, the chapter is done! What do you think?**


	13. The Dark Mark

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary: **There's a monkey up my sleeve!

**A/N: **Here it is, gadies and lentlemen, chapter 13, three weeks early! Hope you like it. Have a Happy Holidays everyone!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**Chapter 13: The Dark Mark**

Amazingly enough, calm returned for the next several days. Aries penned a noncommittal reply to Sev's brother, worked daily on variations of his spell diagram – which Master Tobin had dismissed as "uninspired" – and, during his spare time, did his homework for his non-Spellsmith classes.

However, the calm came just before the storm, which broke on the evening of February 14th.

Aries was doing Arithmancy on his bed in the dorm – all four Marauders were, unsurprisingly, absent – when Charles came storming up the stairs, shouting:

"Aries! Aries! Aries!"

"What?" the brunet asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It's burning!" Charles exclaimed.

Aries blinked uncomprehendingly, until he noticed that Charles was gripping his left arm like his life depended on it.

"It's burning," the frantic redhead repeated grimly, "and I need it to stop. When we first got here it itched once in a while, then it got worse, and now it's outright burning."

"What do you want me to do about it?" Aries demanded, eyes wide.

"You're a Spellsmith!" growled Charles. "Pull it out!"

Aries swallowed. Master Tobin had told him during one of their lunchtime conversations that "Even when new spells aren't in demand, a Spellsmith is never poor." People would come from miles around to see their local Spellsmith if they even suspected they were under a curse or spell, because Spellsmithing gave its practitioners such an intuitive grasp of magic that they were able to rip out an unfriendly spell, whether or not they knew the counter to it.

"I'm just an apprentice!" Aries cried. "I don't know how to pull spells yet! Especially not spells as complicated as the Dark mark!"

"Well consider this a good chance to learn!" Charles shouted back, thrusting his arm under Aries' nose.

Though the glamour made the boy's arm look blank, Aries could still feel Voldemort's magic pulsing beneath. The scent of it made him nauseous and he turned away in the pretense of putting silencing and locking wards on the door.

"You'll have to take off the glamour first," he said quietly. Charles obeyed, having calmed down at the first indication of help.

Taking the blond's arm in one hand, Aries held his wand over the Mark with the other and switched to Magic Sight, squinting against Draco's natural magic. While discerning individual runes in a person's aura was only moderately difficult, picking out one piece of magic on the skin of a magical being was as hard as finding a white piece of paper in a white room lit with thirty-four 60-watt light bulbs. Even looking straight at the mark, he could barely tell where it ended and Draco's skin began.

Slowly, the threads of magic became clearer, allowing Aries to see the faint shadow of black and crimson lines that made up the actual magic of the Dark Mark. Sparks of bright red magic flashed frequently – the likely cause of the burning sensation that was plaguing his friend. Bringing his wand closer to Draco's arm, Aries concentrated hard, willing the magic to leave the boy and attach itself to his wand so he could dispose of it. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead to his nose and cheeks, but the brunet paid them no notice, focused on his task. Slowly, the red sparks began to flash closer and closer to the tip of his wand, until one connected.

Acting purely on instinct, Aries ripped the wand away, pulling with all his might, and ran to the window, shooting the spell off into the air for Hogwarts' wards to absorb. Panting from the effort, Aries returned his eyes to normal sight and looked at Draco, who was staring at his arm as if it held the secrets to the universe.

"Well?" Aries gasped. Draco's head shot up as if he was startled by the noise, but then he focused on the Gryffindor and shook his head.

"It's still there," he said softly, turning so that Aries could see the ugly mark on his forearm. "But you stopped the burning at least."

Aries sighed deeply in disappointment. He had hoped, when he'd pulled out the spark of pain magic, that the rest of the mark had come with it. However, he would not give up.

"I'll find a way to take it out," he promised. "As soon as I'm done with the disguise spell, I'll ask Master Tobin to teach me how to pull spells, and I'll learn how to pull the Dark Mark." He ran a hand through his hair and added in a mutter, "After all, I'll need to do it to myself eventually."

"What?" Charles demanded, having put his glamour back on. "Did you just say what I think you said?"

Aries cringed. He'd been putting this off for weeks, but it couldn't be put off any longer.

"See, I got this letter the other day…"

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"YOU WHAT?" Charles screamed, making Aries very glad he'd put up silencing wards. "HOW ON EARTH COULD YOU COME TO A STUPID CONCLUSION LIKE THAT? HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND? YOU MUST HAVE LOST YOUR MIND! NO SANE PERSON WOULD EVER, IN A MILLION YEARS, COME TO THE CONLUSION YOU DID! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'RE IN FOR?"

Angry now, Aries stood up and glared at the redhead. "GEE, YOU KNOW, MAYBE I DON'T!" he shouted sarcastically. "AFTER ALL, IT'S NOT LIKE I'VE EVER HAD TO FIGHT DEATH EATERS. OH WAIT, YEAH I HAVE!"

"YOU IDIOT! YOU HAVE NO IDEA! NO IDEA AT ALL! YOU'RE A COMPLETE FOOL AND I HOPE YOU LEARN YOUR LESSON FAST, AND THAT IT HURTS! I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE YOU CRAWLING TO ME ON YOUR KNEES, SO THAT I CAN LOOK AT YOU AND TELL YOU JUST HOW STUPID YOU ARE!"

"OH, I GET IT! SOME FRIEND YOU ARE! THIS ISN'T ABOUT THE DEATH EATERS AT ALL; IT'S ABOUT YOU AND YOUR STUPID PATHETIC NEED TO FEEL BETTER THAN ME. YOU HAVEN'T CHANGED ONE BIT SINCE FIRST YEAR. YOU'RE STILL A BACKBITING SNOB WHO THINKS HE KNOWS WHAT'S BEST FOR EVERYONE. WELL NO THANKS!"

"FINE, SEE IF I CARE, _ARIES_! YOU GO AHEAD AND THROW YOUR LIFE AWAY. I DON'T CARE. IN FACT, I NEVER CARED! I CAN'T BELIEVE WHAT AN IDIOT YOU ARE. IF I'M AROUND YOU MUCH MORE, I'M AFRAID IT MIGHT RUB OFF!"

"WELL WHY DON'T YOU JUST LEAVE THEN! GO ON! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!" Aries brought down the wards and slammed the door open with one furious sweep of his wand.

Charles glared at him with such disgust that it seemed like something might catch on fire, then whirled and stomped out of the dorm.

With the former Slytherin gone, Aries' anger slowly drained out, leaving him feeling weak and empty. His trembling knees gave out and he collapsed onto his bed, dropping his face into his hands.

Everything was so messed up.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Over the next few days, Severus noticed a distinct tension between Aries and Charles. He was the only one who noticed it – or rather, who saw it as out of the ordinary – as most of the school was unaware of Charles and Aries' friendship. Under normal circumstances, Charles stuck with the Marauders and Aries stuck with him, Severus, and if there were any…_altercations_, the two transfer students were always on opposite sides. However, Sev knew from his evening sessions with the Gryffindors that those incidents were more amusing than antagonizing for them.

However, ever since St. Valentine's day, Charles had stopped coming to the evening practices, and whenever they exchanged insults in the hallway, there was a good deal more genuine vitriol from both sides. Severus knew that, if push came to shove, he would side with Aries, but he had been friends with Charles as well, and so these small encounters were rather uncomfortable. Even Potter and his friends seemed surprised at the redhead's new attitude, as Charles traditionally took a more passive role.

Still, on the outside, everything was normal. Though Charles no longer attended their evening exercises, Aries still worked himself to exhaustion while chatting merrily about his apprenticeship. He had finished his first project soon after the fight with Charles and was now running through the various types of warding.

"I asked Master Tobin if he could teach me how to pull spells," Aries confided once, "but he said that would have to wait until I have a better grasp of magic."

"Are you terribly disappointed?" Sev asked, curious at the casual way Aries had spoken of the rejection. His master had never denied him any form of learning.

"Of course not," the brunet answered. "If I can't grasp the magic yet, then there's no point in teaching me, but he basically told me that I'd be able to soon. Besides, I'm in no hurry to learn Pulling." The last was said with an almost vicious twist that led Severus to believe it was distinctly untrue.

Still, he allowed the subject to drop. His Slytherin sense of self-preservation easily overcame any desire he might have to understand this fierce and sudden enmity.

However, as the snow melted and spring brought a fresh livelihood to the young hearts of Hogwarts, yet Aries and Charles did not make up, Severus' bemused acceptance of the situation quickly turned to irritation. Whenever he, Aries, and Charles were in any close proximity to each other – which was, blessedly, not often – he had to grit his teeth to keep from cursing them both. He was no longer the slightest bit curious as to how their bitter battle had begun; his only concern was ending, and ending it quickly. And possibly brewing a migraine potion for himself in the meanwhile.

What made matters worse was, in late April – around the same time Master Tobin finally consented to teach Aries spell pulling – the Gryffindor broke his vow of silence concerning Charles, preferring to enumerate his apparently infinite list of failings. For the last month, anytime they were alone, and many times when they were not, Aries would simply stop whatever he was doing and start to whinge on and on about 'that Higgins', usually beginning with the same phrase:

"Do you know what really bugs me about that Higgins?"

And Severus would reply in a voice so laden with sarcasm and irritation that he could scarce understand how Aries missed it, "No, what really bugs you about him?"

"The fact that he always introduces himself as 'the third' – as if the world needed more than one!"

"The fact that whenever someone answers a question in class, he _looks_ at them – as though answering questions were suddenly out of style!"

"The fact that he's constantly primping himself or making sure he looks just right – as if anyone cares what he looks like!"

"The fact that he never sets foot in the library – as if he knows all the answers already!"

"The fact that he seems to occupy your every waking moment such that you can't even perform a simple lumos without blowing something up!" Severus finally snarled in irritation.

Aries blinked at him, face completely blank in shock as he held the smoldering ashes of the paper he had been trying to illuminate. Before the brunet could gather his wits to respond, Severus continued.

"Merlin, Aries, what is wrong with you? Can't you see that your ridiculous fight with Charles has gotten out of hand? I don't know what the problem is between the two of you but for the sake of my sanity – if nothing else! – fix it!"

Aries' face started to turn red with indignation.

"Now see here, he –" he began, but Severus cut him off harshly.

"No, Aries; _you_ see here. It doesn't matter which one of you was in the wrong at the start of all this, because in case you haven't noticed, _months have passed_. Why you both insist on dragging a likely petty argument on and on for weeks without end is beyond me. Just be the bigger man and apologize so we can all go back to normal!"

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries let the charred paper slip from his finger as he contemplated Sev's words. He knew it was stupid, he knew it was petty and ridiculous and all those other things the Slytherin had said. It was just so much _easier_. He – and Charles, he suspected – had so quickly fallen back into their roles as rivals that they had hardly even noticed the discomfort of those around them. It just seemed so much more familiar to look at that pointed nose and glare. So much easier than to look at that face and say 'can we talk?' or 'I apologize' or any number of things that might have stopped their fight long ago. He hadn't even stopped to consider how it might seem to Sev, how it might feel to have your two best friends turn on each other.

He remembered back in his own time, his sixth year, when Ron and Hermione had been fighting. It was horrible – frustrating and saddening and humiliating all at once – and he cringed at the thought that he'd put Severus through that.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I…you're right. I know what I have to do."

And he did. It was already May and in June the NEWTs would start. Master Tobin had warned him repeatedly that he needed to have a journeyman piece ready by that time to receive credit for his Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense NEWTs. He'd long ago decided what he wanted his journeyman piece to be, but he would need Charles' help. So, he would have to do as Sev said – be the bigger man, swallow his pride, and apologize to Charles Higgins.

Sev clapped him roughly on the back, startling him out of his thoughts.

"Good," the Slytherin said wearily, "because if you went off on one more rant about the failings of Charles Higgins III, I would be forced to hex you, and as you're a friend, I might not even enjoy doing it."

Aries snorted skeptically.

"Like you could ever not enjoy hexing someone who deserved it," he grimaced comically at the admission.

"There is that," Sev said, smirking.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

_We need to talk._

Charles sneered at the message on his sheet.

It had been a week since Aries seemed to deflate and stopped responding to the usual taunts. A week when the school breathed a collective sigh of relief that the ever-present tension was beginning to ease; the rivalry between the marauders and Snape was bad enough without adding the Potter-Malfoy rivalry. One week of relative peace.

And now this.

The was Charles saw it, there were only two possible responses. The first, and easiest, would be to shout in some crowded corridor for Aries to stop invading his bed – thus humiliating the boy at the same time as delivering a negative reply. The second would be to show up that evening at the Room and hear the git out.

Decisions, decisions.

On the one hand, Aries was a prat, as evidenced by his moronic plan. Charles still had difficulty believing that anyone with Aries' past would voluntarily decide to become a Death Eater.

On the other hand, insane or not it was Aries' decision. And the past few months without his friendship had been infinitely more stressful than the time before. True it had been fun at first, going back to the person he'd been long ago, before the Dark Lord came into his life and muddled everything. But having to keep a secret like that alone, without the companionship of someone else who knew, it was just too hard.

The redhead sighed and erased the message. Sitting on the – now clean – bed, he pulled out his homework. He wanted to get his Herbology essay done before dinner, and he'd only just finished the requisite research.

Remus came up a while later and noticed him hunched over the sheet of parchment.

"Hey Charles," the boy greeted him, searching through his trunk. Charles grunted in response. "You're already doing your homework? You're usually playing Snap with James and Sirius until after dinner. Don't tell me you're becoming a bookworm like me?"

Charles sighed and vanished a spelling mistake.

"No worries Remus," he said casually, "I'm still a slacker. I just have someplace to be tonight, if you catch my meaning." He winked for good measure, which sent Remus out of the room shaking his head.

The werewolf would, no doubt, tell the others that he would be spending that evening in some sort of romantic rendezvous. Charles would be teased the next morning, but none of the Marauders would follow him to the Room that night, which was all that mattered.

He and Aries needed to talk.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries paced the Room anxiously. He had warned Sev that Charles might be coming today and the Slytherin had promptly remembered some forgotten piece of homework and excused himself. It never ceased to amuse him how quickly Severus got out of uncomfortable situations. Ron and Hermione would have –

No. He'd been thinking about them entirely too much lately. They were the only part of the future that he truly missed. And he missed them a great deal.

But now was not the time to be dwelling on friends left behind. The door opened and Charles walked in, one eyebrow raised in arrogant curiosity. Neither boy said anything while they locked the door and set up wards. Only once all the necessary spells – and a few unnecessary ones – had been cast did they turn and face each other.

"I think I should apologize," Aries began. "But I want to make it clear what I'm apologizing for. I'm sorry I shouted at you and ignored what you were trying to say. But I'm not sorry for planning to take the Dark Mark, nor for telling you about my plan. I still intend to go through with it, and if you can't handle that…well, I'll just have to accept it."

Silence fell as Charles continued to stare at the brunet, his expression blank and unchanging. Aries wanted to fidget, to demand a response, but he knew that he had to wait. Finally Charles blinked and turned his head to the side.

"Very well, apology accepted," the redhead granted magnanimously. "And for myself, I apologize as well. It is your choice, and you are certainly well-informed enough to make that choice of your own volition. I don't like it, but if that is your choice, then it is the duty of a good friend to stand by you."

"Thank you," Aries whispered. He had been worried that Charles would turn his nose up at him; all the plans he'd made concerning the future had been made with Charles as a key player. So Aries quite literally didn't know how he'd vanquish Voldemort without him. Besides, though it stung his pride to admit it, he'd gotten quite used to joking with Charles and Sev in the evenings, and it had been depressing to think they weren't friends anymore.

"Besides," Charles continued snootily, "if I don't stick by you, no one will, you insufferable prat."

"At least I can walk outside without being afraid that my inflated head will float away!" Aries retorted, smirking, and just like that the tension was gone and they were friends again, laughing together.

The room provided a pair of comfortable armchairs and a roaring fire. Of course, only in a place such as Hogwarts could a roaring fire be comfortable in the first days of June.

"So how has life without my presence been for the little Slythindor?" asked Charles, sipping rose-colored liquid out of a glass goblet that had materialized at some point. Aries spared a moment to marvel that the Room would be allowed to provide alcohol before answering.

"It's been…not without it's moments," he replied. "I can't say there've been many accomplishments to speak of, except I finished the disguise spell – I'll need to teach you that, by the way. And Master Tobin finally got around to teaching how to pull spells – OH!"

"What!" Charles jumped, looking around wildly as though expecting a boggart to jump out at him.

"My journeyman project. I need to talk to you about that, I just remembered."

"Why? What do you need me for?" The redhead raised his eyebrow again while taking another sip.

"I'm going to Pull your Dark Mark."

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: Dun dun DUNNNNN! Sorry, couldn't resist. I'm so happy, I got this done so much earlier than the others! This probably won't be a continuing trend, mind, but it's a treat for now. As you can see, time is beginning to pass a little faster, and as we get more and more of the little details out of the way it will go even faster. So don't worry, it most likely won't take 80 chapters to get back to the present ;-)**

**Please let me know what you think!**

**PANTZ - Emerson**


	14. Testing

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary: **The early monkey gets the monkey.

**A/N:** Haha! This must be some sort of record! Booyah! Mind you, this might be the last update till after the holiday season because of various upheavals, but at least it's here! Yay!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 14: Testing

Charles took a deep, calming breath. He must have misheard, yeah, that was it; he misheard. No way would Aries be so moronic as to pile one stupidity on top of another.

"What did you say?" he demanded.

"Relax," Aries said dismissively, "I'll teach you the disguise spell first, you won't be seen."

Oh. Sweet Merlin, he had heard him right. Charles put his hand over his eyes and endeavored to speak in a calm, normal tone of voice.

"Won't I have to take the glamour off for you to Pull the spell?"

That obviously gave Aries pause. Amazing how a few months away could make the brunet forget little details. But soon enough Aries recovered and opened his mouth again.

"Then we'll put a bag over your head," he suggested.

Charles _glared_ at him. A slow red flush began climbing Aries' neck as the brunet visibly calmed himself.

"Please, Charles," he said quietly. "It'll only be in front of Master Tobin, and he won't be forewarned that you'll be hiding your identity, so he won't have any way to look through a mask or anything. I swear on my life you won't be discovered! Please! I've been preparing for this for weeks, and if I don't have a journeyman project I'll fail three of my NEWTs and I'll be kicked out of the Spellsmith program."

Charles sighed wearily. It really wasn't that bad of a plan. He could easily transfigure a mask that would cover his Malfoy hair, and Aries had sworn that he wouldn't be discovered. But…

"How do I even know you can do it?" he asked. "I haven't seen you do any magic outside of class in months. The last time I saw you under reasonable conditions, you couldn't even get a good hold on the spell."

The Gryffindor frowned in thought, tapping the fingers of his left hand against his thigh. In a sudden flurry of motion, he pulled out his wand and shot a spell at Charles, who was too busy watching the tapping fingers to dodge.

"Blue moon snafu! Hannibal climbing turnip columbine," the redhead exclaimed. His face flushed with anger. "Toll bridge snack pack knot! Wiggle front desk pest hanger wasp! Oooh…" He fell silent, instead shooting a look at Aries that said, more clearly than he apparently could, 'I'm going to kill you.'

"It's just a gibbering hex, Charles," Aries explained. "If you'll calm down and sit still, then I'll Pull it for you. Okay?"

"Talmage," Charles agreed, nodding. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and removed his glamour.

Aries, his wand still out, moved cautiously forward. By his actions, it seemed the brunet expected Draco to hit him if he moved to close. Ridiculous, of course; he would have to be pretty childish indeed to hit Aries before the prat removed his curse. After the curse was gone, _then_ he would hit him.

The 11 some-odd-inch Holly wand moved closer to his face as Aries got that distant look that signified he was looking through Magic Sight. After almost a minute – though it certainly felt like much longer – of being stared at by a motionless Spellsmith apprentice, Charles was just about ready to give up. Then, quite suddenly, Aries flicked his wand in a quick stirring motion, then shot a spell off into the fireplace.

"There," the Gryffindor said proudly, his voice slightly breathless. "All better?"

"So it would seem," Draco said slowly. Aries looked at him hopefully and the blonde sighed. "Fine, fine, I'll be your bloody journeyman project."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The first two weeks of June were uncharacteristically bright and sunny. The weather was warm and the birds and first years were downright cheerful.

Not one fifth or seventh year noticed.

Aries slogged through is Ancient Runes and Arithmancy NEWTs with little hope for more than an A. After all, you couldn't take only one year of a class and expect and O, though it would have been nice.

Potions, he though he had done well on. At least EE, and possibly even an O, since he'd done the same work twice. Sev had even loaned him his Advanced Potions text, with all his notes to study from.

"My master had me take all my notes in a notebook," the Slytherin explained, "so I don't need that book anymore. Just put it in the storage cupboard when you're done; maybe some other unfortunate soul can use it."

Aries had been forced to excuse himself after that, but the book was helpful in preparing for the test.

He had a few days' break after Potions while the History, Herbology, and other tests were being held. Everyone who wasn't being tested was studying for a test, so Aries decided to take a walk by the lake. His journeyman test was coming up, and he wanted to practice, but he wasn't quite sure how. He couldn't practice on objects, as they didn't have the natural luminosity that a person did. Master Tobin had told him that his biggest failing point in Pulling was the amount of time it took him to find a spell on a person. The Spellsmith had cursed himself over and over to give Aries practice, but he wasn't here now.

A commotion on the front path disturbed his musings, and Aries looked up to see a group of third years coming back from Hogsmead. Two of them were leading a third between them, who appeared to be having some trouble walking.

"What happened?" Aries asked curiously. It looked like a Jelly Legs jinx, but third years weren't supposed to know that one.

"He accidentally tripped over a studying fifth year," one of the boys explained. Aries cringed in sympathy. Studious OWL students were notoriously unforgiving. He raised his wand to counter the curse, when he got an idea.

"Tell you what," he said. "I'll get that curse off him, if you three will do me a favor."

"What kind of favor?" another boy asked, wrinkling his nose.

"I need to practice Pulling spells," explained Aries, "but I can't do it without a subject. So if you three will agree to spend an hour cursing each other and then letting me Pull the curses, I'll Pull that Jelly Legs for your friend."

The two un-cursed boys hesitated, but the one between them spoke up, agreeing quickly. With a satisfied smile, Aries switched to Magic Sight and looked for the jinx. It was easier outside, he decided, as the sun seemed to lessen the glare of the boy's magic, and Aries quickly found the green strands infecting his legs. With a flick of his wand, he Pulled the spell out and shot it off into the air.

"Cool!" one of the boys exclaimed, awestruck eyes flicking back and forth between Aries and his friend, who was taking a few experimental steps on his freshly stable legs.

"Thanks," Aries said with a smirk. "My name's Aries Hesuchazo, what are your names?"

"I'm Andrew," said the formerly-cursed boy, then pointed to each of his friends in turn, "and this is Gregor and Epi."

"Epi?" Aries raised an eyebrow at the nickname, and the named boy blushed hotly.

"His real name," said Gregor with a wicked grin, "is Epaphroditos, but he'll curse anyone but his mum who calls him by it."

Two hours later, they were still at it in the Gryffindor common room. The boys knew a lot more jinxes, hexes and curses than Aries remembered knowing at that age, but that was all to his benefit as he was able to search for a variety of spells. Sometimes they turned up in odd places, as well. Aries searched for particular variation of hair-coloring jinx on Andrew's head for several long minutes before finally spotting it – on his left arm. Apparently it was a jinx that changed the hair to match a color on an article of clothing, and so the spell had to attach itself to the clothing instead of the hair. Epi had won ten points for that.

That was why they were staying for so long – they had made it a game of points. The harder a time Aries had, the more points the person who cast the curse got. Epi was in the lead, but not by much as Gregor and Andrew were tied only four points behind him. By the time they finally stopped for dinner – food being the only thing that took precedence over all else to thirteen-year-olds – Gregor was one point ahead of Epi, who was three points ahead of Andrew, who was complaining that it wasn't fair as he hadn't gotten a last turn.  
Aries, however, was completely satisfied. He had gotten a lot better at distinguishing the difference between a curse and a person's natural magic in Magic Sight, and the boys' playful mood had eased the tension that had settled between his shoulder-blades during the Potions exam. All in all, it had been a pretty successful day.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Finally, the day dawned that Master Tobin had set aside for Aries' journeyman exam. It was to take place right after lunch, but neither Charles nor Aries felt that it would be wise to eat anything just then, so they left early to Hogsmead.

Aries wore only his apprentice robes of traditional grey, but Charles wasn't taking any chances. He had forced Aries to teach him the Occlumency-based disguise spell earlier that week, and had on a completely different face beneath the shadow of his cloak hood, which he had pulled low. The last thing he wanted was for people in this time to think that he was ever a Death Eater. Even if the knowledge came from the fact that he was having his mark _removed_, it still wouldn't be any advantage.

The sun was bright, and the few clouds cast sharp, fast-moving shadows that passed over the two teens from time to time like giant moths, fluttering on the edges of their awareness. Aries was running over and over in his head all the facts he had been able to gather on marking spells from the library (There was, of course, no information on the actual Dark Mark, as Aries suspected Voldemort had created himself, based on his experience in the Chamber of Secrets – there was nothing subtle about a snake coming out of the mouth of a dead man, be it a skull or a statue of the long-dead Salazar Slytherin). Human marking spells in general came in two forms: Surface or Deep. Surface marking spells were quite simple both to cast in the first place and to remove. Usually all it took was a piece of parchment with the desired image and a charm to transfer the image from page to person.

However, the Deep type was different. For one, he could only find reference to it in the Restricted Section. For another, it used Dark magic. Not dark magic as defined by the ministry – namely any spell, creature, or object that causes direct harm – but Dark magic. Dark magic is magic that uses one or more of four sources of power: sex, death, blood, and pain – hence why Harry's mother's protection of him was Dark magic, not dark magic, while the killing curse is dark magic, but not Dark magic. Deep marking spells use the pain of a branding to bind the magic of the caster onto the body of the victim through an image. This is what gave the Dark Mark it's shadowy cast when viewed in Magic Sight – Dark magic is called such because the power sources tint the magic a darker color.

The problem with Dark magic spells, however, was that they were immeasurably harder than simple hexes to remove. Aries would have to get a very firm grip on the magic and pull very hard. It might even cause Charles some pain, but it would have to be done. Not just for his own journeyman piece, but also for Charles' future. Having a distinguishing mark like that – especially one that couldn't be explained – could cause serious problems that neither wanted to face.

"We're here," Charles said suddenly, bringing Aries sharply back to the real world. The brunet looked up to see the impressive double-doors of the lecture hall. "Are you ready?"

Aries snorted in amusement.

"Are you?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

Charles' disguised face smirked and gestured for Aries to open the door. The apprentice did so with a small roll of his eye, bowing extravagantly as Charles walked haughtily past.

Aries led his cloaked friend through the winding halls, knowing he'd never find his way on his own. Through the left hand hall, down a flight of stairs, two more lefts and a right, through a door marked Owls Only, up a flight of stairs onto the backstage area of the main auditorium, then behind the green curtain to the men's dressing room and, finally, through the door at the back to where Master Tobin waited. Charles slipped on his mask and undid his glamour just before Aries opened the door and stopped short.

The apprentice had never seen the Spellsmith like this. Normally, Master Tobin dressed in simple work robes and disdained any show of ceremony – even to the point of forbidding Aries to shorten his title to a simple 'master'.

_"It's either Master Tobin or 'sir'," _he had said sternly. _"You're an apprentice, not a slave."_

Today, however, the man seemed to have spared no formality. He wore dress robes of traditional Master blue with the Spellsmith Guild insignia embroidered in silver on the right breast. Around his neck hung the many awards he had earned in his field, awards Aries didn't even know the name of, awards he couldn't yet dream of earning.

"My Apprentice has arrived," Master Tobin intoned. Aries bowed low, resting on one knee – he _had_ researched the proper rituals for the occasion, even if he hadn't expected Master Tobin to follow them At once, he understood why people would ever bow to each other – it was a sign of respect. For once, the idea of such submission didn't gall him, as it was a sign of the very deep respect he had for the man before him.

"Master," he said, eyes low, "I come for a test."

"You believe you are ready for a higher station?"

"That is for my master to decide. I wish for nothing more than to show you the profit of the knowledge you have given me." The words of the ritual fell easily from his lips, with a sincerity that surprised him.

"Tell me, Apprentice."

Aries took a deep breath and stood. Those words were the signal to begin the verbal part of his presentation, where he had to be the most careful, so that he didn't reveal anything about Draco.

"This," he started, waving a hand behind him at where he hoped Draco was standing, "is a person I know who wishes to remain anonymous. A little less than two years ago, he took Voldemort's Mark. Several months ago, he decided to abandon the Death Eaters forever. Today, I will use the skills my Master has given me, and Pull out his Dark Mark."

Master Tobin sucked in a sharp breath of air, then let it out slowly, evidently shaken by the claim. The man studied Aries, who waited patiently. Finally, the Spellsmith spoke.

"Show me, Apprentice."

Aries nodded, bowed once more, and drew his wand. First, he conjured a chair for Draco, who sat in it gracefully, baring his left arm in the same motion. The Mark glared into the room like a silent intruder, making the isolated room suddenly seem very exposed. Suppressing a shudder, Aries crouched down on the floor beside his friend and switched fully into Magic Sight.

Immediately the room darkened, the walls turning almost black. The overhead light that had before illuminated the entire area, now barely glowed at all with the weak yellow light of Lumos. Instead, the main sources of light came from Draco and Master Tobin, who were both white masses, vaguely shaped like people. Focusing, Aries stared at the left forearm, squinting slightly so he could see the details better. At first it was just a pale shadow, but slowly the shape cleared up into the familiar skull and snake, woven with threads of black and crimson.

Aries felt more than saw his wand drawing nearer to the mark, focused as he was. He dare not actually touch the Mark with the wand, as he didn't want to activate it and have Death Eaters popping in unannounced, but he got as close as physically possible without touching and moved his wand back and forth, almost stroking the Mark. Slowly the dormant magic started to move, awakened by a Spellsmith's wand, and a low hissing filled the room. It started out too low for even Aries to understand, but as the Mark grew more active, the hissing grew louder, and eventually he could hear one word, repeating over and over in Parseltongue.

"_Morsmordre. Morsmordre. Morsmordre._"

Aries hesitated. He knew the key to Pulling was luring the magic, making it extend a bit out of the person it was attached to, so that you could get a grip on it and, well, Pull. This was magic spoken in the snake's tongue, and he had a feeling that it would respond best to the snake's tongue. But Master Tobin was completely unaware that he was a Parselmouth, and he had rather hoped to keep it that way. Still, all it would take was a single word. Maybe if he whispered it…

"_Rise,_" he hissed, speaking to the snake image on the tattoo – it certainly wasn't difficult to make himself believe it was alive, as the magic underneath writhed and slithered in a very serpentine way.

The magic seemed to pause as it listened. Then, like a snake poking it's head out of a hole, a single strand of magic lifted off the Mark. In a flash, Aries caught it with his wand, twisted like it was spaghetti on a fork, and _Pulled_. He heard Charles scream and Master Tobin gasp, but he paid them no mind as the magic came loose with a last great wrench. Aries whipped out a piece of parchment he'd prepared with a containment spell just for this and shot the spell at it, watching breathlessly as it turned the paper to ash.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Tobin waited, arms crossed, as his apprentice caught his breathe and returned from Magic Sight to normal. Though he hated to admit it, removing a Dark Mark was a very impressive journeyman piece. Not that he'd ever tell the boy that, of course, but it was certainly not something anyone else had done. As far as he knew, not even the other Masters had managed to get their hands on a live Death Eater who wanted his Mark gone.

It was…rather satisfying to be so thoroughly impressed by his apprentice.

Eventually the moment passed and Aries turned to face him again, ready to accept his judgment on the matter.

"My Apprentice is satisfactory," he said formally, reciting the words his own master had said to him years ago as he turned to retrieve the green journeyman's robes and Spellsmith broach. "You have proven yourself ready to walk in the world as a representative of my and my craft. Wear your robes proudly, Journeyman Aries."

"I will, Master Tobin," Aries promised, taking the clothes from him. With a last bow to each other, the ceremony was over.

"Your…friend, is dismissed," Tobin ordered. The cloaked and masked young man, whoever he was, nodded and left before Aries could object, shutting the door politely behind him.

The boy sat in the chair he had conjured and made a show of examining his new pin, leaving Tobin to conjure a chair for himself. Brat.

"You," Tobin said pointedly, watching in satisfaction as Aries fell very still. "You never told me you were a Parselmouth."

"It…it's not exactly something I like to flaunt," the boy stuttered. Tobin rolled his eyes.

"Stop acting so tormented," he snapped tiredly. "It's not like you're the first one in Britain. Now, are there any other _surprises_ I should know about before you go off on your own?"

He could see the wheels turning in the boy's head and wondered what else there might be. How many other shocks was he thinking about and tossing out now? Honestly, Tobin was quite looking forward to learning about this Harry Potter someday.

"Never mind," he said brusquely, just as Aries opened his mouth. "I'm sure I'll find out someday. Likely in the worst possible moment."

The boy smirked in amusement and started toying with his broach again. Tobin had the feeling he was searching for words of gratitude or some such nonsense. He couldn't allow that.

"What are you still doing here?" he demanded. Aries looked up, eyes wide in surprise. "I am not supposed to see you for six months. You're a journeyman, go! Journey!"

He flicked his wand and banished the conjured chair, watching in amusement as Aries fell flat on his rear. The boy was up again in a moment and, with a last chuckle, ran out the door.

_Yes,_ Tobin thought, watching him go with satisfaction, _he'll be just fine._

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: So, what do you think? Do you like? Do you hate? Are you indifferent? Do you have a funny-smelling mole on your hand? Can I stop talking in questions now?**

**PANTZ - Emerson**


	15. Commencement

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here

**Summary:** purple monkey dishwasher…or did I already do that one? Howler monkey wedding, then.

**A/N:** Sorry this was so long in coming, college kinda hit me like a sack full of potato-bricks. Or brick-potatoes. Whichever it is that leaves you in a coma for days. But yeah, I'm getting back in the swing of things now, relearning to balance work and play. Anyway, on to the chapter!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 15: Commencement

Graduation was, naturally, a solemn dignified affair. At least, it might have been, had it not been the graduation of James Potter and Sirius Black. As Head Boy, it was tradition for James to give the opening speech. Aries had never doubted Dumbledore's sanity as much as when he learned this. The prankster's address actually started out rather well.

"Ladies and gentlemen, friends and families, honored teachers and mentors, I bid you welcome," Potter began. "Today is a grand day for all of us. We students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry stand before you on the brink of the future. After we have accepted today the proof of our completed education, we will go forth into the world, to bring about great things and to help mankind. We will no longer be children, but adults, free to make our own decisions and accept their consequences, as have generations before us.

"When I look back on my seven years here at Hogwarts, it doesn't seem like very long at all. Indeed, I cannot imagine how the time has passed so quickly. The idea that it has all ended so soon fills me with a touch of fear deep inside; fear that I haven't learned what I will need to know, fear that I am not yet ready to leave. But greater than that fear is the excitement of the new horizon, approaching so quickly toward us. Though these last seven years seem so short, I know that they were long enough, and that I am ready."

At this point, several people were dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs. McGonagall couldn't have looked prouder. However, the Gryffindor wasn't done.

"I'm sure many of my teachers would disagree, saying that the day when I leave couldn't come soon enough. I have caused enough trouble here to last them for several decades, I'd imagine. But after today, there will be no more pranks on teachers, no more duels in the halls between classes, no more hexed food in the Great Hall. Tomorrow, the mischief at Hogwarts will be gone, or at least toned down a little.

"Tomorrow; but for today, I've got one more for you!"

He brought his wand in a sweeping arc over his head, shooting some unknown spell over the assembled students. A bright light flashed, almost blinding in its intensity, but when everyone could see again, they all groaned loudly. Somehow, the Marauders had managed to hex them with the skin of their house emblem. The Slytherins were scowling irritably at their scaly hands; the Ravenclaws had feathers everywhere; the Hufflepuffs had dark brown fur with black markings, just like a badger; and the Gryffindors were all sleek and golden, the boys even had manes!

McGonagall's indignant shout of "Potter!" seemed to be the breaking point for the audience, who broke into raucous laughter. James, who had a scruffy black mane of his own, bowed graciously and took his place in line. As Lily stepped up to the stand, she just shook her head in exasperated amusement.

Amazingly enough, after Potter's prank, everything else went on without a hitch. The speeches were inspiring and the traditional music gave everything a very ceremonial feel, even while half the students were sweating beneath fur coats. Still, Potter had apparently planned it well; as each student took hold of their diploma the spell ended, turning them back to normal just in time to have their picture taken.

Whenever a student's name was called, his or her family would clap loudly, allowing everyone to know who was related to whom. When Bellatrix Black was called up, for instance, all her relatives from Andromeda – who sat off to one side with her husband Ted – to the newlywed Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy – who sat with the rest of the Black family – stood and clapped. Aries wasn't expecting anything when he was called to the front, but to his surprise two people stood up for him. One was a dark-haired man, big boned, but not fat, and the other was a thin woman with dark blonde hair. Aries recovered from his shock quickly and waved, wondering who these people were and how much Dumbledore must have paid them to do this.

Charles' name came right after his, and three people stood up for the redhead. A redheaded man, an auburn-haired woman, and a strawberry blonde girl who looked to be about thirteen. Aries supposed she must be have been there as Charles' little sister, Anne, who had been invented during the winter break. They were a perfect example of muggle wealth, and the brunet couldn't help but wonder if they actually were muggles, and if so, how on earth the headmaster had been able to persuade them. Dumbledore didn't seem like the type to find three unsuspecting muggles and put them under the Imperius, so they must have known what they were doing. He'd have to ask Charles later, assuming the other boy actually found out.

Soon enough the ceremony was over; all the students had been given their diplomas and the house elves were already getting the chairs ready for a giant outdoor banquet. Most of the graduates were gravitating toward their families – he could see Sev exchanging awkward pats on the back with a young man who must have been his brother – so Aries followed suit and searched for his 'family'.

He found the dark haired man standing with the blonde woman by one of the many trees that dotted the grounds, squinting out over the crowd as if searching for someone; which, indeed, he was. When the man spotted Aries, his face lit up and he started waving animatedly, gesturing the new graduate over.

"Hi," Aires tried to say 'Dad', but it got stuck in his throat – besides, he wasn't even sure that was who the man was supposed to be – so he settled on saying, "Hi guys. What's up?"

Luckily, the man came to his rescue immediately.

"Not much," he said with a broad grin. "Your mum and I were just watching our only son graduate with honors. We couldn't be prouder, Aries."

The brunet felt something hitch in his chest at the words. He glanced at the crowd and saw his fa-…James holding Lily's hand and introducing her to his family. Sirius lurked near his friend, looking melancholy. Aries decided to be grateful for what he had, and turned back to his 'parents'.

"Thanks, Dad."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Charles had quickly found his fake family – the red hair was as distinctive as the Weaselys' – and pulled them far away from the crowd so they could speak privately. Along the way to a secluded copse of trees, they chatted about various inconsequential things. He asked about the family business, his 'father' replied that it was going quite well, and they were planning on opening a new venue in California. He also found out that Anne was excelling at the Salem Witches' Institute, which, unlike its boys' counterpart, was a high quality educational facility.

However, once they were far enough away that no one could overhear, Charles' whole demeanor changed. He took a step back from where he'd been standing chummily at the man's shoulder and stared at them coolly.

"I assume Dumbledore put you up to this," he stated.

"Er…yeah," the man said, clearly uncomfortable with the sudden directness of the conversation. "He didn't tell you then?"

Charles shook his head ruefully.

"Ah, well, in that case, let me introduce myself. I'm Ted Baker, accountant, and this is my wife Jessica and our darling niece Lorraine. We're extremely distant relatives of a wizarding family – the Weasleys, I believe – so we are aware of magic, but Lorraine's the first magical family member in several generations. Albus tracked us down and explained the situation; he even gave us a pamphlet of all the family information you came up with. You've invented quite a life for yourself."

It took a while for Charles to absorb that information – particularly the part about the Weasleys. However, he soon decided that, Weasley relatives or no, they were still there to verify his story – well-wishers in that they wished him no specific harm. He cracked a smile.

"You always told me I had a good imagination, Dad."

The Bakers laughed, breaking the tension that had built up. Settled into the situation, the four of them wandered back toward the crowd, chatting aimlessly about their made up lives. Lorraine – or Anne, as Charles forced himself to think of her – quickly got bored and entertained herself by skipping and watching the house elves busily setting up the hundreds of chairs. Unfortunately, in watching the house elves, she was not watching where she was going, and it only took a few minutes for her to trip over someone.

Someone who turned around furiously and whipped out his wand, flinging his white-blonde hair.

Lucius Malfoy.

Charles groaned mentally as he placed himself dutifully in front of his father's wand. He hated being a Gryffindor. Honestly, how did Aries stand it?

"Come now," he drawled at the sneering aristocrat, "surely there's no need to resort to hexes over a simple mistake."

Malfoy cocked an eyebrow, apparently thrown by the idea of someone speaking so reasonably after acting so incredibly rash. He withdrew his wand, though Charles was well aware that a dangerous hex would still be just a flick of the wrist away, allowing the redhead a chance to turn around and extend a hand to his sister.

"You should be more careful, Anne," he admonished gently, "perhaps you should apologize to Mister…"

"Malfoy," the other wizard supplied gracefully. "Lucius Malfoy. And please, apologies aren't necessary. Do forgive me for my overzealous reaction to your sister. And you are?"

"Charles Higgins III," Charles supplied, inclining his head politely.

"Higgins," Malfoy repeated, turning wary, "I'm not familiar with the family."

"You probably wouldn't be, here in England," said Charles' 'father', coming up behind him. "We're American you see."

"Indeed," Lucius sneered, his nostrils flaring. He obviously didn't think much of Americans. "Well, you must excuse me, I…believe dinner is starting."

With the barest nod in their direction, Malfoy took hold of Narcissa's arm and led her away. Charles sighed in relief – he had been afraid he might have to reveal that his parents were squibs to get rid of him, which might have created a whole new set of problems.

His father chuckled and patted him on the shoulder, understanding, at least, the reluctance to stick around the Malfoys, if not Charles' whole reason.

"Well, c'mon, let's eat!" Anne tugged Charles' sleeve impatiently, so he and the rest of his 'family' were soon seated at the long tables, awaiting the arrival of the feast.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

As Aries led his family back to the tables, which were now prepared for dinner, he was suddenly tackled on the side. Taking a few stuttering steps to regain his balance, Aries turned his head and found the source of the attack.

"Epi!" he exclaimed, laughing. "What are you doing here?"

"My older brother is graduating – he's a Ravenclaw, so I doubt you know him. He sure looked funny covered in feathers; wasn't that Potter's spell neat?"

"It certainly was…interesting," Aries grudgingly admitted.

His family came up beside him and his father put a hand on his shoulder.

"Don't be sore, son," the man said with a grin, "I thought your mane was quite handsome." Aries rolled his eyes, lips twitching into an involuntary grin as everyone laughed. "So, who is this young man, Aries?"

"Ah, this is Epi, Dad; he helped me practice Pulling," Aries introduced. "Epi, these are my parents."

They exchanged a few pleasantries, arguing mildly about whose was the pleasure of the meeting, before Epi turned his attention back to Aries.

"So did you pass your apprentice test?" the brown-haired boy asked excitedly.

"Yep, and not a little bit thanks to you and your friends. I'm a Journeyman now."

Epi's face scrunched up in confusion.

"Does that mean you're going to be going on a journey now?"

"No, that's not what it means," Aries laughed, "though I may go on a few trips someday in the future. Being a Journeyman just means that I can be paid for any Spellsmith work I do now."

"Oh," Epi said, a comprehending expression on his face. "That's cool, it's like you've got a job already!"

"Not quite," Aries' father put in. "He has to find someone who needs a Spellsmith. After all, no one's going to pay him for work they don't ask for. What about your brother, Epi? What are his prospects like?"

"He's applying for a job in the Ministry," said Epi. "He wants to help them research ancient magical artifacts."

"That's quite a job," Aries' mother commented, sounding impressed.

They continued to talk as they moved over to the tables, sitting down next to Epi's family. Aries ended up next to Epi's brother, who, he learned, was named Nikandros.

"Call me Nick," the Ravenclaw added in a whisper, "for the love of Merlin, _please_ call me Nick."

Aries laughed at the thought that their mutual disgust over their names must have been a bonding point for the brothers. Nick was actually one of the many who had applied for the Spellsmith apprenticeship – as well as one of the few who had applied out of any actual interest in the subject. They talked through most of dinner about the art of Spellsmithing, and Aries promised to owl Nick as soon as he was settled in. All in all, it was a good day.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The next morning, while the rest of the students were riding the carriages to the school train, Aries and Charles were sitting in the headmaster's office, sipping tea. They had woken that morning with notes on their trunks telling them to '_make yourselves at home in my office at 11 this morning; I will join with you shortly thereafter.'_ The gargoyle hadn't needed any prompting to stand aside at their arrival, and a tray of tea and biscuits had awaited them in the office proper.

Fawkes, probably barely a day old from his burning, squeaked pleasantly from his place in a corner of the otherwise round room, perched on the same stand Aries remembered from his second year and looking more like a fuzzy apple than a phoenix. As if summoned by the cry of his bird, Dumbledore appeared suddenly from an area hidden from the students' view by a large bookshelf.

"Hello, boys," the headmaster said brightly, "how good to see you again. Would you care for a lemon drop?"

Aries shook his head with a smile; Dumbledore would never change. Charles, however, accepted, slipping the sweet into his mouth and sucking happily. The brunet stared at him like he'd grown another head.

"What?" Charles demanded around his treat. "It's good!"

"Yes indeed," Dumbledore agreed with his customary twinkle. "Muggles are quite talented at making sweets, aren't they?"

_Now_ Charles looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. Aries quickly turned his laugh into a polite cough and, as Charles glared at him – not at _all_ fooled by the coughing – turned to the aged professor.

"If you don't mind, Headmaster," he asked politely, "why have you asked us here?"

"Ah, straight down to business then," Dumbledore sighed. "Pity. Well, to put it succinctly, I have called you here to ask about your living arrangements. Did you have any plans of your own?"

"Well," Aries began, "The family you arranged to come to graduation offered to let me stay with them until I earned enough to get out on my own, but I had hoped to work something out with Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks."

"I don't have anywhere to _live,_ per se," Charles added, "but I'm already lined up for a job at the ministry. A few weeks of that and I'll be able to get a place of my own."

Dumbledore twinkled at them and leaned back in his chair. "I see you've already planned, but I'd still like to extend the invitation for you to stay here at Hogwarts for a short while. We have enough jobs to do during the summer, just for regular maintenance, that you could both leave here in a month with a few more galleons to your names."

Aries frowned in thought. It would be difficult to pursue his contact with Sev's brother if he stayed at Hogwarts for too long, but would just one month hurt? At the very least, he'd be able to earn enough to stay somewhere besides Hogwarts afterwards.

"What kind of jobs are you talking about? And what sort of pay?" he asked finally.

"Well, it's been several years since Hogwarts had a Spellsmith look over her wards," the Headmaster replied, "and I believe the going rate for such services is fifteen galleons per day. Given the size of Hogwarts' wards, I'd estimate you'd probably be working no less than four weeks, with breaks on weekends, so about twenty days, or 300 galleons."

Aries blinked, shocked. 300 galleons! That was the equivalent of ₤1500! He could rent a flat in London for that much, and still have enough to buy any necessities for long enough that he could find a new job.

"And for you, Charles," Dumbledore continued, "we always have need of another of-age wizard to help out. So long as you don't mind working with your old professors, you could probably earn 30 galleons a week, just doing odd jobs. And of course, while you're staying here your room and board would be completely free, and you would both have free reign to do as you like during the weekends. After all, you're hardly students anymore."

Aries braced himself for the tirade that was sure to come; Charles would not take well to making less than half as much as his friend. But the redhead surprised him yet again.

"That seems like a perfectly reasonable suggestion, headmaster," Charles accepted with a grateful tilt of his head. "I will gladly accept if Aries will stay as well."

The brunet stared at Charles incredulously, but Charles just looked innocently back, raising an eyebrow as if in challenge.

"Er…yeah, sure," he stammered, then shook his head to collect himself. "Yes, Headmaster, thank you. When should I start?"

"Oh, not immediately," Dumbledore smiled, satisfied. "Take a few days to get settled in. I've already asked the house-elves to move your things to a suite near the faculty rooms. Rodo!" A house-elf popped into the office, already deep in a bow. "Rodo, would you mind leading Mr. Hesuchazo and Mr. Higgins to their suite – I do hope you don't mind sharing a set of rooms, boys."

"Of course not," Charles answered. "I dare say it will still be more private than the dormitories!"

"Indeed it will," Dumbledore laughed merrily. "Have a good time, boys. I hope to see you at dinner."

Aries and Charles nodded goodbye and turned to Rodo, who was waiting patiently by the door, big brown eyes watching them carefully for any signs of needing his service. When the two graduates turned to him, the elf jumped and sniffed his large hooked nose – Aries privately thought it looked like a rather good caricature of Severus'.

"If masters will follow Rodo, he will show them where to go, Rodo will," he squeaked, opening the door and walking slowly out. Slow, at least, compared to how fast Aries knew house elves could move when they really wanted to.

He and Charles followed the elf down a few well-traveled hallways, then through a set of surprisingly discreet double doors into a hallway Aries had never seen before. Here, the doors were much more decorative and individualized – no longer the plain brown wood of the rest of the school. A decorative herbal wreath hung on one door that Aries was sure belonged to Professor Sprout. Rodo stopped in front of a maple door with a simple decoration of a sitting griffin.

"Here we are, sirs," the elf squeaked happily. "Does masters need Rodo for anything else?"

"No thank you," Aries answered politely, making Rodo's eyes water with emotion before the elf disappeared with a pop.

Charles opened the door and motioned for Aries to precede him into the rooms before closing the door behind them.

"Well, this isn't half bad," the redhead commented appreciatively.

And indeed it wasn't. The front room was a parlor of sorts with a large hearth on one side; a comfortable-looking couch and a leather armchair faced the fireplace. On the other wall, opposite the fire, was a small desk next to a very empty set of shelves. Beyond the immediate area was a half-sized wall that separated the parlor from what appeared to be a dining room – it held a sturdy table with four chairs, though there was no evidence of a kitchen. Aries supposed they were to call the house-elves if they wished to eat in their room. Two doors stood on either side of the half-wall, each leading to a bedroom that connected to the other by a bathroom, and a little searching discovered a half-bath in a small hallway off the main room.

After checking to see whose trunk was in which room, Aries and Charles met up again in front of the fire which, despite the summer heat, kept the room at a comfortable temperature.

"Home sweet home," Aries said with a content sigh. Charles cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Indeed."

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: this chapter makes me sigh. For all my talk of 'full speed ahead' and 'passing time' and such, in over 3,000 words, I only covered two days. One and a half days, really. Oh well, such is the life of a novel, even a fanfic one.**

**What did you think? Oh, and kudos to whoever can spot the Simpsons reference.  
**

**PANTZ - Emerson**


	16. The Magic

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary: **Monkey tails and funky tales.

**A/N: **I'M SORRRRRYYYYYYYYY! I don't know that I can really blame school for the incredible slowness in updating, but the fact is life in general has been in upheaval lately as my family is building a new house and is thus preparing to sell the current one. I should be able to get a few more chapters up soon, though. No, for all who were wondering, the story has not been and will not be abandoned, not if I have anything to say about it (and being the author, I think my input counts for rather a lot).

No one picked out the Simpsons reference from the last chapter, it was Charles' "well-wishers in that they wished him no specific harm" comment, which comes from the episode where Homer searches from his soul mate. All the guys in Moe's Tavern are prompted to label their relationship to Homer, and Moe identifies himself as a "Well-wisher, in that I wish you no specific harm." So there you go, I think those are all the notes for now.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**Chapter 16: The Magic**

"Don't get too comfortable," Charles reminded Aries as they relaxed in their quarters.

He also said it when they were returning to Hogwarts the next day after a fun-filled trip to Hogsmead. And again the day after that when Aries filled their shelves with borrowed library books. And yet again when they were drying off in the sun after swimming in the lake.

"What is that, your motto now?" Aries drawled irritably after hearing it again while serving himself dinner in the Great Hall.

"I'm just saying," Charles retorted firmly. "We, especially you, can't stay at Hogwarts forever, so don't fool yourself into thinking this is a permanent arrangement."

"I'm not!" Aries insisted indignantly. "Is it so bad just to enjoy this for a little longer?"

Charles shot him a look that said, 'If that were all you were doing, no.' – or at least, that's what Aries _thought_ it said – then he turned and busied himself with his food. Aries growled and took a bite of chicken to keep himself from replying. He knew he couldn't get comfortable at Hogwarts; he knew that very well – after all, Voldemort wouldn't want someone very attached to the home base of his enemy. It was just difficult not to relax in a place he'd thought of as home since he was 11.

That didn't mean he wanted that fact pointed out to him at every turn, though.

When a note arrived inviting Aries up to Dumbledore's office for a general overview of ward theory, which he knew to be some of the driest material in magic, the brunet was so fed up that he accepted with alacrity. Even the stone walls of the empty, echoing corridors were more welcome company than Charles' poignant nagging.

When he arrived at the spiral staircase, the gargoyle was already off to the side, leaving him free to come up as he wished. He knocked on the hardwood door and entered at the headmaster's cheerful welcome, finding Dumbledore standing in front of a table covered in domed glass. From the doorway, Aries couldn't tell what was attracting the aged professor's attention, but when he was motioned over to stand at the headmaster's side, he got a clear view.

A scale model of Hogwarts itself. And not just an ordinary model, either – even as he watched, Aries saw a tentacle push through the surface of the lake, then sink back into the depths.

"A Reddo Vegrandis," Dumbledore said, answering his unasked question. "A magical life model."

"It's fantastic!" Aries exclaimed, watching the Whomping Willow wave threateningly at a stray owl. Dumbledore chuckled.

"This is only half of it, my dear boy. Look through Magic Sight."

Aries switched his perception and gasped as the model lit up with the magic of Hogwarts – he could see the ward threads of the main dome surrounding the grounds, and he could even make out some of the structural wards embedded in the castle itself. One of the tower windows glowed especially brightly and Aries looked more closely at it, surprised to see his own magical aura, along with the headmaster's.

"This," the headmaster gestured at the model, and Aries watched in fascination as the miniature Dumbledore mimicked the motion, "is what you will be using to study the wards before beginning your work on them. Before that, however," he continued, leading the way to his desk, "I would like to talk with you for a bit; make sure you have a thorough grounding in the subject. I am well aware of your certifications, but I feel it is impossible to truly understand a person's qualifications without speaking to him."

For the next forty-five minutes, Aries calmly explained what areas of ward theory he had study most extensively. Dumbledore asked questions occasionally, getting him to go into enough detail to really show how much he knew. Aries made sure to ask as many questions in return, so he could learn a little more about wards while he was working.

After a short break for tea, Dumbledore stood and led the way back to the bubble.

"Your first day on the job begins now, Mr. Hesuchazo," he said, eyes twinkling. "Study the wards on the model until you feel adequately familiar with them. Tomorrow, I will take you outside and explain what I would like to have done."

Aries nodded his agreement and turned back to the Reddo, hardly even noticing as the headmaster left the room. The complex of wards that surrounded the castle was astoundingly intricate. Patterns and spells that Aries had never encountered before in his studies danced together as if made for that purpose. But, the Spellsmith noticed with astonishment, they hadn't originally been made that way at all. The wards of the castle had Twisted – had existed so long and in such abundance that a sort of sentience had formed, allowing the wards themselves to direct their own function. To be asked to adjust such a tangle of wards – wards that could think for themselves, no less! – was quite a challenge. Aries ran a nervous hand through his hair.

At least it would help toward his Mastery.

Conjuring a notebook and muggle-style pencil, Aries began taking detailed notes on what he saw. Although the wards were Twisted, and in many cases unrecognizable, the young Spellsmith was still able to see the original intent behind most of the spells, even through their warping. For example, one ward around the owlery was clearly originally meant to keep out owl-predators, but also seemed to have developed a dislike for dead mice as well. The vast number of protection spells surrounding the front gate was so tangled that, even under highest magnification, Aries could hardly pick out any single spell-thread; and the wards nearest the Forbidden Forest seemed to have leeched a bit of Dark magic into them somehow.

Adjusting the focus on the Reddo, Aries looked more closely at that spot. He knew the Forbidden Forest was Dark, but had never really had any occasion to study it. Now that it was laid out before him with perfect detail, he found himself curious. After all, how did a _place_ end up tainted with Dark magic, anyway? And to such an extent as the forest? From all he'd read about Dark magic, it just didn't make sense. Dark magic wasn't like runic magic – it wasn't something that could come about by accident or coincidence, something created naturally by the flow of magic in the world itself. In fact, Dark magic was by it's very definition _un_natural. But places like the Forbidden Forest – places haunted by no spirits, but by a heavy feeling of infection, of contamination – were so common…

The Spellsmith followed threads of brown, crimson, and olive-colored magic down the wards into the scraggly canopy of the forest, seeking some source. Some answer to his confusion. He could tell that something was behind this pool of Dark, deep magic, and if he could just look a little further, maybe he could find it.

Outside, deep in that same forest, something throbbed in response, and the Headmaster's office was suddenly filled with a blinding light.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The next day, Dumbledore walked Aries out onto the grounds. He had reentered his office the day before unsurprised to see the young man blinking and rubbing his eyes. After admonishing his former student for straining his Magic Sight, the headmaster had sent him to get a good night's rest. Now, thankfully, Aries looked properly refreshed and quite eager to get started.

"I would like you to start at the gates, if you please, and work your way around the grounds over the next few days," he explained. "There have been a few irregularities over the years I've worked here, so I'd like you to see if you can help the wards in any way – strengthen them if they've grown weak, straighten them out if they've started to bend, the usual ward work."

Aries nodded vaguely, already switching into Magical Sight and checking the wards against his memory of the Reddo model. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the headmaster leave, probably twinkling like mad. The young journeyman didn't care, absorbed now in the vibrant threads of ancient magic. He had to focus entirely if he wanted to get this right. A very recent article by a muggleborn Arithmancer had compared Twisted wards to a brain, with its complex knots and threads of neural pathways, each made up of hundreds of thousands of individual thread-like cells. The only way to work on such wards without inadvertently breaking up the whole system was to discover the patterns and work within them, which meant identifying the key pieces of every thread. The headmaster wasn't kidding when he said this would take no less than four weeks. In fact, Aries would consider himself quite lucky if he could finish in just that long, even working morning to night for five days each week.

His wand safely tucked away in its holster – he did not anticipate needing it for several days – Aries reached up and ran one finger delicately along the closest thread. It was thick, the green of sea grass, and spread out as it reached the ground, indicating that it did not continue underground. As he touched the magic, concentrating intently so that he could actually _feel_ the thread, the young man was slowly assailed by the sense of the magic. He could tell, now, that it was earth magic, drawing an essence of life into the cold stone castle, like a breath of fresh air; it was something inherently _healthy_, though Aries couldn't have conveyed what he felt in words. Continuing to caress the magic, he gradually learned more and more, until he could even identify that it was the Headmaster's magic that had made the spell, and that he had cast it years ago to clean out the stale air in one of the classrooms that hadn't been opened in many years. The spell had literally taken root, drawing air from outside into the castle and keeping the often crowded corridors and classrooms from becoming stifling and smelly. It was a good spell.

Aries released the magic, shaking his head sharply as he came back to the real world. It was disconcerting to be just himself after being so intimately connected to an intrinsic part of what he still considered to be his home. Conjuring himself a glass of water, he gathered himself and turned back to the magic.

For the rest of that day, and the next several days, he wandered around through the wards, gathering knowledge of the types and patterns. Aries found several more spells from the Headmaster, because Dumbledore's magic was the most familiar, but he also found a few spells from former headmasters as well, and learned things about them that he doubted were in any history book.

Phineas Nigellus, for example, had a love of opera that he had tried to incorporate with his magic; though he had never succeeded in becoming an opera Sonomancer, or sound wizard, the castle had taken the magic of his attempts and used it to protect a locked music room.

Curious, Aries looked for more magic to do with the room and with Sonomancy in general, and learned that the last headmaster to be a Sonomancer died over seven hundred years ago, and had, in fact, composed a piece that blanketed Hogwarts with strong protective magic, calling the castle to arms against any who wished to harm those within her walls. The piece had been written, as was all music at the time, to be chanted by a chorus of wizards and witches, so no music was ever composed specifically to accompany it. Aries was very impressed, until he learned that the song's spell was reinstated every year at the Welcoming Feast as the school song.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts" hardly met the romanticized ideas of powerful magic Aries had somehow maintained.

The music room had been locked away a century later by a headmaster who felt such frivolous uses of magic to be 'undignified'. The foolish man had also stopped the tradition of singing the school song, weakening the protection of the wards. Although the school song had been reinstated within a decade of the witch hunts, the music room, and Sonomancy as a subject, had not returned to Hogwarts.

Aries also learned many things much closer to his own time. On the first day of the second week of his inspection, he stumbled across the infamous Defense Professor Curse cast by Tom Riddle upon being denied the post by Dumbledore. The time-traveler was startled to find that the curse itself was unintentional – a bit of accidental magic performed out of pure spite. This caused Aries some confusion, because until now, any magic not specifically cast for the wards had been accepted by the castle itself and used to protect, defend, or otherwise aid the students in her care. That the castle would allow such an intrinsically harmful spell to take hold didn't make sense, just as the Dark magic in the forest didn't make sense. And the answers just would not come, no matter how close Aries seemed to be to finding them.

"Just tell me, you bloody school!" he growled in frustration, then flushed as he felt a rumbling thread of amusement run through the magic in his hands. Sentient magic could be quite a bother.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Charles groaned and rubbed his sore neck as he set down the last of Professor Sprout's plants. The part of him that still thought like a Good Little Malfoy was throwing a raging tantrum in the back of his mind about servant's work and dirty fingernails, but that part had been growing quieter ever since he first came to Hogwarts, and the Head of Hufflepuff had insisted that levitation would make the Beebalm lose its medicinal qualities. Though just _why_ she needed twenty pots of fully-grown plants was unknown to him – he couldn't remember ever studying the plant or making a potion with it.

Well, if there was one thing he had learned from working with his former professors for over a week, it was that he didn't know everything, and that he wouldn't find anything out without asking. Okay, maybe that was two things, but that was beside the point.

"Professor Sprout?" he began, taking off one glove to wipe the sweat from his brow.

"Yes, Charles?" the stout woman grunted from beneath her own heavy load.

"I was wondering; just why do you need so much Beebalm?" asked Charles.

Sprout shifted the last pot into a shady corner then turned and smiled brightly at him, clearly delighted at having a chance to talk about her craft.

"That is a very good question, Charles!" she gushed. "Beebalm, while it has few characteristics that would set it apart enough for an Herbology class, and it's certainly too magically weak for potions, has a wide array of very important uses. You see, this little plant here," she patted the four foot bush at her side, "grows very fragrant flowers, which attract nearly every pollinating creature you could imagine, so I try to keep at least one plant around anything I want pollinated, and I have quite a few plants that need pollination.

"Also, the leaves are used exclusively in a tea you Americans introduced Professor Slughorn to called Oswego, which he swears are a miracle cure for headaches. Now don't you tell him I've said this, but I've had that tea and, while it can ease a few aches and pains, it's nowhere near as good as a regular headache potion; I think it's just the taste he's addicted to." She winked at him and Charles smiled broadly, letting her know he appreciated both the information and the staff gossip.

He did, too – appreciate them. While it was nice to be earning a few galleons while waiting for his owl from the ministry, it was much more important to gain more knowledge about his own place, socially. As a Malfoy, he'd been groomed so that, as soon as he reached adulthood, he would take his place as scion and be treated as royalty, but such a lofty attitude was not proper for a squib-born American, no matter how rich his supposed family was. By spending time with the teachers at Hogwarts, who had experienced a hundred times over the transition of child to adult – or at least, student to graduate – in those around them, Charles was able to work out a clear view of the proper way to act.

If he wanted to survive the next nineteen years without being discovered – and he did – then he would have to make sure no one had any reason to look too deeply into his past, which meant making sure no one thought there was anything out of the ordinary about him. It also wouldn't hurt to have a good rapport with the teachers at Hogwarts, as he knew very well just how important their influence could be. If there was one thing he had learned from Potter Watching, it was that the combined will of Hogwarts was stronger even than Lucius Malfoy.

Not that it hadn't taken him hadn't taken him years to admit it, but the important part was that he had, in fact, learned.

"Thank you so much for your hard work, Charles dear," Sprout said, smiling at him and interrupting his musings.

She handed him two galleons – adequate pay for two hours work, but galling nonetheless. Especially when he considered that Aries was having fifteen galleons transferred into a Gringotts account each day now that he had acquired 100 galleons – the minimum requirement for opening an account without a sponsor.

_No, no, you're not going to think about that,_ he told himself firmly, forcing a polite thank you to the plump witch. _Aries is Aries and has a completely different path, you do not need to compete with him monetarily._

Reminding him of Aries plans for the future always worked quite nicely to stop any indignation before it could develop into outright jealousy. In fact, it usually led to a shudder in sympathy, and then a surge of gratitude as he remembered his own blank arm. Finally, a frustrated sigh would find its place as he thought of the latest development in the life of Aries Hesuchazo – the Hogwarts wards.

Charles' thoughts stayed on his friend even as he was set to cleaning the telescope lenses by Professor Sinistra. He had been worried, when Dumbledore invited them to stay at Hogwarts for a few months longer, that Aries would come to think of the school as his home and not be able to separate himself sufficiently for the task ahead. Now, just over a week into the summer job, Charles knew his fears were not only justified, but perhaps understated. That very first day working on the wards, Aries had come back literally _glowing_, and he hadn't stopped. The redhead had tried, over the next weekend, to get his friend out of the castle, but it was no good.

"Let's go to London," Charles had suggested eagerly, "we can visit the bookstore and see what books have just been published!"

"No thanks, Charles," Aries had said with a distant look, "I think I'll take a few laps around the Quidditch pitch. Have a good time at Diagon Alley, though."

_How am I supposed to do that?_ Charles thought sarcastically. _Make bets on the next book out against myself?_

Charles knew exactly what was happening, and it wasn't usually something that came up as a 'problem' for most wizards. Aries had been submerging himself daily in the magic of a place he _already_ considered home. Most wizards and witches did regular maintenance on their own wards, but it was superficial at best, and they didn't have to worry about long term separations from that home in the near future.

The redhead finished his job, retrieved his pay – one galleon, bringing that day's total up to six – and hurried back to the quarters he shared with Aries. The brunet was already there, gazing into the magicked fire, with that same distant look on his glowing face.

"Hey Aries," Charles called out, faking unconcern as he summoned a house elf to fetch him a glass of chilled pumpkin juice. A grunt was his only reply. "Have you started checking out the listings for flats in London? You said you wanted to get a handle on general price ranges before actually going in to buy something."

"I'll do it later," Aries shrugged, noncommittally, ticking Charles off.

"You've said that about everything lately!" he snapped. "Have you even sent a reply to Sev's letter?" The brunet didn't answer. "Aries, that came three days ago! He's probably getting worried. Here, I'll _bring_ you some parchment and a quill; will that be enough to get your lordship's lazy rear end off the cushions?"

Aries mumbled something too low for Charles to hear.

"What did you say?" he demanded, rubbing his temples.

"I haven't read the letter."

Charles had to breathe deeply through his nose to keep from losing his temper entirely. This was getting very bad very quickly – Aries had lost all touch with the world outside of Hogwarts. Well, as the saying went, 'Drastic times call for drastic measures'.

"Stupefy," Charles whispered, behind Aries' back.

His friend slipped easily from his almost-comatose state to unconsciousness. From there, the former student was easily able to levitate Aries out of the castle and all the way to Hogsmead. Charles rented a room at the Three Broomsticks, using his own hard-earned money, but swearing to make Aries pay him back, and flooed back straight to the infirmary – thankfully empty, as Poppy was on holiday.

Weak magical drain potions were always kept in stock, as the more powerful students could have dangerous magical bursts when in a high fever or otherwise delirious. Charles grabbed three and headed back, ready to drain all of Hogwarts out of Aries if he had to.

Casting "Enervate" on Aries was unpleasant, to say the least. As soon as he was awake, the young man began to cringe and curl in on himself, as if having stomach pains. One arm started groping about the lumpy mattress, searching for the lost tie to his magical home. Charles cursed the headmaster a thousand times over for not realizing or preventing Aries from coming to such a condition, then cursed him a thousand times more when the idea came that the headmaster might have wanted Aries to become attached to Hogwarts in such a way, as it would make both of them easy to monitor, and Dumbledore wouldn't want to let two _unique_ individuals such as themselves out of his sight.

But no, Charles shook his head, the only Dumbledore who would do that would be the manipulative, hateful Leader of Fools Draco Malfoy had been raised to hate. In any case, cursing Dumbledore wasn't helping Aries.

Gently, Charles tipped his friend's head back and held the first opened vial against his mouth, but Aries pursed his lips firmly.

"It'll help you feel better," Charles lied, "it'll help, I promise."

Aries drank, then let out a high keening sound as the potion took effect, stripping some of Hogwarts' magic from inside him. The process was repeated, sip by sip, until all three vials were drained. In the middle, Aries had begun repeating the litany of "It'll help" in tune with Charles, occasionally throwing in things like "Liar" and "How could you", which didn't actually seem to be directed at Charles at all. The redhead decided he really didn't want to know what that was about, and instead focused on clearing Aries' magic and sending the other man into a spelled sleep.

He had to have words with Dumbledore.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: So, what did you think? A little bit longer than my usual chapters, but I had a devil of a time getting the darn thing to end. I was wondering if there was anything specific anyone wanted to see from this story, now that you've all got at least a basic idea of where I'm coming from (if not where I'm going)? Reader input is very useful for increasing update speed, I've found.**

**PANTZ,**

**Emerson**


	17. No Title As Of Yet

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary: **Monkey, Monkey; who's got the Monkey?

**A/N:** Woot! Barely over a week since the last chapter, and this one's already done! I feel so industrious.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 17: A Title-less Chapter

As soon as Charles flooed back into the hospital wing, he noticed the brightly colored robes of the Headmaster standing in the entrance.

"Ah, Charles," he said, twinkling that infernal twinkle, "I wondered who was using the floo here. Did you need something healed?"

_Charles grabbed the old man by the beard and started beating him over the head with a chamber pot._ A lovely fantasy.

"No, headmaster," he replied coolly. "Though there is a little mistake that needs fixing, if you don't mind."

"Of course not, whatever is the matter?"

Charles smirked inwardly at the thought of illuminating the headmaster on just everything that was 'the matter', starting with the fact that he was in this time in the first place. But, he decided, being succinct generally worked better for getting a point across, so he would limit himself to the specific situation at hand.

"Aries, sir, is the matter," he said curtly, "and the way he has submerged himself in the wards of Hogwarts almost to the point of binding himself to the castle. Or how about the way that he is now in fierce pain because of the remedy to this catastrophe, for which, might I add, I hold _you_ directly responsible."

Dumbledore's rosy cheeks seemed to pale, but against his snow white beard, Charles couldn't be sure.

"Just tell me one thing," he continued, looking sharply at the old man. "Did you send Aries to work on the wards knowing that he considers the castle his home?"

The headmaster's silence was answer enough, and Charles sneered at him in disgust and turned back to the floo, intending to return to his friend. He was stopped by a surprisingly strong grip on his arm, which led to Charles having to bite his tongue to keep his temper in check.

"Come, shall we talk in my office?" Dumbledore suggested, his usual buoyant tone more subdued than Charles had ever heard it.

The redhead glanced back at the floo, but decided Aries would be alright for a while – the sleeping spell, at the very least, would keep him out of harm's way – and consented. The walk to the headmaster's office was silent, as Dumbledore apparently wanted to keep any real conversation behind closed doors, and Charles was utterly disinterested in idle chatter. Before he knew it, the former student was neatly ensconced in an overstuffed armchair turning down the same muggle sweet he had lauded less than a month ago.

"Charles," Dumbledore began, lacing his fingers together, "when you and Aries first approached me this summer, I knew that Aries was…more attached to Hogwarts than is usual. I gave him the chore of dealing with the wards in hopes that he and Hogwarts would develop and affinity for each other, so that Aries would know that he always had a place to which he could return; and, of course, wherever he is welcome, you are too. This way, I could be assured that, no matter what happens in the next twenty years, both of you would be taken care of."

Charles looked skeptically at the old man, but decided that, if there was one thing he could believe of Dumbledore, it was that he could justify manipulating people's lives in almost sickening ways as 'for their own good'.

"So you sent Aries out to become Home Bound to Hogwarts, so that we'd both know we had a _place to stay_?" he demanded darkly.

"I did not mean for Aries to become Home Bound, Charles," Dumbledore replied smoothly, popping a lemon drop into his mouth. "In fact, I thought the risk of such binding rather low, for I assumed both of you must have family and homes from which you are separated, homes to which you both long to return. Perhaps I was incorrect in that assumption, and for that I apologize."

Charles snorted softly, but softened his glower. There was the barest possibility that Dumbledore was telling the truth. That he, ignorant of the boy Harry Potter, would not consider that a person transported through time could consider anywhere in the past 'home'.

"Thank you for explaining, Headmaster," said Charles, wearily, "I will pass on your words to Aries when he wakes."

Dumbledore nodded and, this time, made no move to stop the redhead when he got up to leave.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries woke with a splitting headache and a stomach that seemed determined to get revenge on him for some offense. He cracked open one eye and spotted a blob with red hair above him, making him groan in relief.

"Ron, find me some hangover potion, will you?" he murmured, his voice muffled by the pillow, but otherwise clear. Strange, the only other time he'd gotten drunk he'd woken with a voice that would make a land-locked mermaid proud.

"Wrong redhead, Hesuchazo," the blob above him said, worry lacing the otherwise cultured voice. "Do you remember where you are?"

"Maybe if I had my glasses, I would," Aries retorted dryly. In moments, the familiar frames were slipped onto his face, bringing the redheaded blob into focus. "Bloody-…Charles? Sorry, mate, must've hit my head pretty hard there. What happened, anyway?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" Charles asked, eyebrows furled. Aries assumed the other man had been worried by his earlier mistake, thinking Aries might have lost much of his memory.

"Well, I was resting in our rooms, then you," Aries paused as the memory returned to him in full, then he glared at Charles. "You stunned me, then you shoved potions down my throat! What in Merlin's name were you thinking you great prat! You better have a very good reason for putting me through that torture!"

Charles raised an eyebrow at his outburst, making Aries feel unaccountably silly, as though being stunned and fed incredibly painful potions without warning didn't merit some defiance on his part. He impatiently shook the feeling off, returning Charles' glance with one of his own that, he hoped, demanded an explanation.

"Aries, you're a very intelligent person when you want to be, but sometimes I wonder if you weren't dropped on your head as a child," Charles muttered. "In all your study of ward theory, did you ever, even once, come across the term Home Bound?"

"Home Bound?" Aries frowned in thought as he pulled himself up to a sitting position, waiting patiently until his stomach stopped attempting mutiny. "I think it was mentioned once or twice in passing, but only in application to, well, homes. You know, places of residence where you've got memories and happy family and that sort of thing." He shrugged. "I didn't think it applied to me."

The other man placed two fingers gently against his forehead in exasperation.

"Aries, look me in the eye and tell me you don't consider Hogwarts as your home," he demanded.

After a few confused blinks, Aries' eyes widened in comprehension. If he considered Hogwarts home, as he knew he did, then the risk of becoming Home Bound very much applied to him.

Home Bound was a nasty little affliction that was also, thankfully, quite rare. If a wizard or witch spent too much time working on the magic of their home without adequate exposure to places outside the Sphere of Influence of that magic, the wizard or witch ran the risk of turning their own magical core into a part of that magic. They would be unable to leave the Sphere of Influence without significantly weakening hourly, until, eventually, they would have no magic left.

That certainly would have put a kink in Aries' plans for the next 19 years. Not to mention after!

"I suppose," Aries suggested with a grimace, "that those potions you gave me helped to drain Hogwarts' magic?"

"Right you are, ten points to Slythindor," Charles drawled, smirking. His face turned suddenly serious, and he sat down on the bed next to Aries, facing away. "You should know, Dumbledore sent you to work on the wards, knowing there was a risk of you becoming Home Bound to the castle. He was, in fact, hoping that you would form some sort of bond with Hogwarts so that we'd have a sanctuary – apparently you and I are one person now. His motives may have been for the good, but the fact remains that he sent you out to do a job with inherent dangers without informing you beforehand."

"Oh."

Aries couldn't think what else to say to that. The Dumbledore of his time, before the old man's death, had learned his lesson about trying to manipulate Harry behind his back, but that wouldn't happen for another seventeen or eighteen years, and the headmaster clearly had few qualms about doing so now. The young Spellsmith felt a surge of anger and betrayal, and he clenched his fists tightly as he cursed Dumbledore. Hadn't he ever thought Aries might have plans of his own? Plans that certainly didn't include staying at Hogwarts forever.

If he didn't have such a grudge against Voldemort already, Dumbledore's actions might have turned him to the Death Eaters for real!

"Perfect!" Aries exclaimed, jumping out of bed with a broad smile on his face.

"What? What's perfect?" Charles demanded, confused as he watched his friend dig through the drawers of the bedside table and pull out a quill, ink and parchment the inn kept there for emergencies. "What are you doing?"

"Writing to Sev's brother," Aries answered. "Dumbledore's actions have pushed me over the edge and I've decided to take up his offer and join Voldemort."

Charles quickly comprehended his meaning, as Aries would have expected of the former Slytherin. For all of Aries' skill in Occlusion, all he could do was hide his hatred and derision for Voldemort and his forces; if he did that and Voldemort tried to peer into his thoughts, the Legillimens would quickly see that Aries didn't have any hatred or derision for the Light side either, which could spell his death. However, with Dumbledore's mistake, Aries would be able to play on his own anger and, with a little luck, be able to fool Voldemort into thinking him a loyal Death Eater.

If he weren't so ticked off at the man, Aries could have kissed Dumbledore!

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries didn't send his letter until the next day, because he decided it would be vastly insulting to Sev to send his brother a letter before he'd even read his. So, that evening, Aries sat down at the desk in their quarters with a writing set and Sev's four-day-old letter.

_Dear Aries, _it read.

_It has not been a very long time since we have last spoken to each other, but much has happened in the interim. More, I think, than would be prudent to write down. First of all, you should know that I've moved out of my father's house and am living with my brother in London. Arnold is rarely at home because of his duties at the Ministry and his other work, so it is rather like living alone._

_I spend most of my time in a small laboratory brewing potions on commission, though I am interviewing next week for a job supplying a nearby apothecary. You told me in your last letter that you were working for Dumbledore, and it pleases me to see that we are both doing work based on our specialties. I feel you could do better in an employer than Dumbledore, but that is, perhaps, a conversation for another time._

_On that topic, I would like to set up a time and place where we could meet, perhaps over lunch sometime, to discuss topics of a more sensitive nature. If our conference could occur here in London on a weekend, then my brother might also be available to introduce himself to you. He is quite eager to become acquainted with you in person._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Severus Snape_

Aries thought long and hard over his reply, though he knew it could never be as delicately phrased as Sev's – he just wasn't that skilled in subtlety. Skilled enough to recognize what Sev was really talking about, but not enough to reply in kind. Finally, when he thought he had something adequate to say, he put quill to parchment.

_Dear Severus, _

_My deepest apologies for the delayed reply to your letter. I've been ill for the last few days and was not myself until this morning, for which I have Charles to thank almost exclusively. I will tell you all about it when we have lunch together. I am free any Saturday or Sunday for the next two weeks, as Dumbledore has deigned to give me the weekends off._

_Please make an appointment with your brother for us to meet whenever it is most convenient for him, as that seems delightful. I will send him an owl tomorrow, but there is more that could be said in person._

_I'm glad you are having such success with your potions, working on the wards here is tiresome but exciting at the same time. I do hope to see you soon._

_Your friend,_

_Aries Hesuchazo_

It was much shorter than Sev's letter, but it would have to do. Swallowing a thrill of anxiety at the step he would soon take, Aries took his letter to the owlery and sent it off, watching the tawny school owl fly off into the darkening sky.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Sev's reply came later that week. Aries read it in the Three Broomsticks, where he now ate dinner with Charles every day to prevent another brush with binding.

"Is everything set up?" Charles asked, watching Aries bite his thumbnail over the letter.

"Hmm?" Aries glanced up, distracted. "Oh, yes. This Saturday at noon we'll meet up at the Leaky Cauldron and eat, then Arnold will join us once his lunch break starts at 12:30. This is it."

Charles wasn't an idiot, he could plainly see how anxious his friend was about the upcoming meeting. However, that didn't mean he was the least bit inclined to ease those worries. After all, there wasn't anything he could do, short of lying outright, that would make Aries more confident – the other man knew perfectly well what he was getting into, and had made his choice. Instead, it might be more beneficial to get his mind onto happier topics.

"So, how are Hogwarts' wards doing?" he asked pleasantly.

Immediately, Aries' eyes lit up as the distraction successfully took hold.

"They're fantastic!" the brunet exclaimed. "I mean, there are a few kinks here and there, but the actual working on them is fantastic. I probably know more about Hogwarts than anyone other than Dumbledore, by now. And today, I managed to tap into the wards nearest the forbidden forest, and, oh Charles, I learned so much!"

"About the forest?" Charles raised an incredulous eyebrow. "It's full of dangerous creatures and only suicidal people, Gryffindors, and Hagrid go in there. What more is there?"

Aries looked at him like he'd sprouted dragon wings and a tail and started singing opera.

"Haven't you ever wondered why the Centaurs consider it 'their' forest, and don't even want humans going in it?" he questioned.

"Because they're extremely territorial?" Charles guessed. Aries wasn't impressed.

"No, you prat, it's because they fought for it and won. You see, about two decades after the Founders built Hogwarts, the town of Hogsmead began to grow and flourish. It started out in the little valley it's in now, but it quickly spread out and people started to cut down the Forest to make room for more buildings. The centaurs were, umm," Aries blushed slightly in embarrassment, "they were 'told by the stars' to protect the Forest, so they started attacking the human woodsmen. Of course, the villagers didn't take kindly to that, and they raised a militia, which eventually became an army, and fought the Centaurs. Eventually, the Centaurs won, but not before one hundred wizards and witches had spilled blood on the forest floor. The mayor of Hogsmead at the time was the one who agreed to give the Centaurs the forest, but used the spilled blood to curse the ground."

"So the Centaurs hate humans in the forest because the _stars_ told them to?" Charles asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, no, no," Aries raised his hands as though to stop Charles' incorrectness. "That's why they believe the forest belongs to them. They hate humans because we cursed their forest with the blood of a hundred of our own dead."

"Yes, that makes so much sense," Charles said sarcastically.

"I know!" Aries exclaimed, taking a bite and smiling off into the distance.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Sev was, naturally, already waiting at a booth when Aries arrived promptly at noon. Although he had no proof as, to his knowledge, such a catastrophe had never occurred, but Aries privately thought that Sev would manage to take points off himself were he ever late.

The table was in a shadowy area of the inn, far away from the din and clatter of traffic between Muggle and Wizarding London. Sev had either been there a while or was fully expecting Aries to be late, because he'd brought a book – more of a tome, really – and was engrossed in its pages when Aries slid in across from him.

"Hey, Sev," the brunet greeted his friend, watching in amusement as the Slytherin jerked his head up, startled.

"Hello Aries," Sev answered, recovering quickly and slipping a bookmark into his place so that he could close the book.

They spent a few minutes chatting lightly – small talk about the weather and Charles and other neutral topics – while a waiter took their order and delivered their food. Only once they were finally left alone, without chance for interruption, did the real conversation start.

"So, what exactly did the old codger do to you?" Sev asked, eyes narrowed slightly with anger.

That anger only grew as Aries told Sev about Dumbledore's attempt to bind him to Hogwarts – though he manipulated the details of the story to make it less suspicious that he could get that attached to Hogwarts after only one school year. His new story included Dumbledore subtly manipulating the wards behind the scenes to make them draw Aries in; convenient, because it also compounded the headmaster's offense. By the end, Sev looked like he'd dearly like a chance to add some special ingredients to Dumbledore's lemon drops.

"And you have to stay at that school for two weeks still?" the black-haired man demanded. Aries nodded. "Merlin, I don't like this. I don't like that he's going to have any power over you at all for that long."

"Don't worry Severus," Aries reassured him. "I'll be alright. Now that I know, I'll take extra steps to protect myself."

"Good," Sev responded forcefully.

They ate in silence for a few moments, letting the topic drop. Aries hated how he was portraying the headmaster, and he thought he might regret it more, later. How would Sev ever become a spy if he thought Dumbledore was the type of person who would be so underhanded?

"How is life with your brother going?" he asked, breaking the silence.

"It is decent," Sev acknowledged. "He has been telling me about his…friends. Did you know that muggles believe themselves descendent from apes? They're animals, they know it and revel in it; it's vile."

"Indeed," Aries pretended to agree, all the while wanting to shout at Severus for his shortsightedness. He wanted to recite for his friends the lessons he had learned in muggle primary school about evolution and genetics, and that Wizards weren't some separate species. "How horrible."

"Yes," Sev nodded his head, looking off to the side. "And the Wizarding world has allowed itself to be forced into hiding by those…animals. Something so shameful should be corrected."

Aries hummed noncommittally.

"You don't sound convinced," Sev noted, then shrugged. "My brother will explain it much better than I."

He nodded his head in the direction of the door to Diagon Alley. Aries looked, just in time to see the portal close behind a tall, dark haired man with sharp features. He bore a distinct resemblance to Severus. The man noticed them and walked over, offering his hand to Aries.

"You must be Aries Hesuchazo," he said. "It's nice to finally meet you. Severus has told me so much about you."

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: I know, I feel sort of evil ending it there, but the long conversation with Arnold will just have to wait until next time. I'm not particularly happy with this last scene, as I'm not sure if Snape's really IC. What do you think?**

**PANTZ,**

**Emerson**


	18. Dark Marks

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary: **Must we get into this again monkey?

**A/N: o0O:WARNING:O0o This chapter contains rabid angst. I could not stop it nor control it. **I honestly didn't mean for this chapter to be so…disturbing. Or so long, for the record. But you know how stories can be sometimes, they just do whatever they want, leaving the rest of us out in the cold. And dark. With the bugs and frogs and other noise-making creepy-crawlies.

I'm tired, can you tell?

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**Chapter 18: Dark Marks**

Sev watched, a small smile of satisfaction playing about his lips, as his best friend and brother shook hands. It would be very pleasant if two of the – very small – handful of people with whom the Slytherin could stand to converse were to get along with each other. So far, things were off to a promising start – Aries even looked a little awe-struck.

The three, especially Arnold and Aries, exchanged a few introductory pleasantries while the older man ordered a small meal. As soon as the dish arrived, however, Arnold discreetly flicked his wand and the din of the pub was cut off behind a thick silencing ward.

"I'm afraid my time truly is quite short," Sev's brother explained, tilting his head apologetically, "so we should get to the heart of the matter quickly."

Aries swallowed a bite of his sandwich before answering.

"Of course, of course; I am quite eager to hear what you have to say."

"Ah, but it is actually what _you_ have to say that demands attention at the moment," Arnold corrected him with a wink. "For example, I need to know your opinion on the current state of the wizarding world."

"Oh, that," Aries said, a slight frown creasing his brow. "It's quite horrible, of course."

"Of course," Arnold agreed, a grin growing on his face, "but just what about it do you find most horrible? What would you change if you had the chance?"

"Past, present, or future?" Aries challenged.

"Any, all, whichever you like." Sev's brother was completely unshaken by the line of questioning, as he had been when Severus asked his own questions.

"Well, if I could change the past, we wouldn't be trapped in this fool's war at all," Aries snapped, practically growling.

Sev's eyes widened in astonishment, and he heard his brother suck in a breath of air before the brunet continued.

"If I could change the past, I would make those idiots in the ministry listen to the demands of the public, make them really understand things, so that those with different opinions wouldn't be forced to take such drastic actions. Alas," Aries flicked his fingers dismissively, "such speculation is useless at the moment, as the fact remains that the wizarding world _is_ at war."

Arnold had relaxed at Aries' explanation, and his easy smile returned.

"Would you not say, then, that it is the duty of anyone who really cares about our world at all to get involved in this, as you called it, 'fool's war'? After all, if the ministry will not listen, what can be done?"

"Too true, too true," Aries agreed, then lapsed into a thoughtful silence, his gaze resting on the open floor of the inn.

The three took the opportunity to think in silence, and to finish their meals. Severus, particularly, was well pleased with how things were going. While it was clear that Aries wasn't wholly on their side yet, he certainly didn't lean with the ministry, and Arnold could turn that sympathy for the Dark Lord's side into true devotion by the time lunch was over. He would make Aries see sense.

"Look at them," the Spellsmith said suddenly, breaking the silence. Sev and Arnold followed his eyes curiously, ending up at the door into Muggle London, and specifically the older couple checking tentatively out to see if the coast was clear. "They're afraid. Terrified by the thought of leaving one of the few sanctuaries we wizards have taken as our own. They hide all they can, ignoring the Muggle world as much as possible, but when they do have to go out in the open, they do it scurrying about. Like rats."

Arnold nodded, looking carefully neutral, though Sev could easily pick out the delight in his brother's eyes.

"And the muggles will keep growing, you know," the Auror said, his eyes narrowing. "They breed like maggots. Their own world is steadily declining into chaos. We have to protect ourselves. We have to protect our noble traditions. How do you keep mold from growing on bread?"

"You keep out the spores," Aries answered quietly, still looking off into the distance.

"Exactly," Arnold hissed. "That's all we're trying to do, Aries; keep out the spores of the muggle world. But we can't do it alone. With your help, we might just succeed." He reached across the table and placed his hand gently on Aries' arm, causing the other man to look up and make eye contact. "Will you join us?"

Aries swallowed again as he thought – Sev could almost see his friend's eyes racing – but eventually, he nodded once, firmly, and said, "Just tell me when."

"The next meeting for new volunteers is at the new moon, August 3," Arnold explained leisurely. He reached into his robe pocked and pulled out a sealed envelope. "Inside this is a portkey timed for 9 PM that night. You're lucky, that's when my little brother's joining too," Arnold clapped a hand on Sev's shoulder, smiling proudly at him. "I think it's always best to join with a friend. Well, now that all the business is done with, I'm afraid I must take my leave. Auror duty calls. Gentlemen." Arnold nodded his farewell to both Aries and Severus before apparating straight out of the inn.

"That went well," the Slytherin said, smiling softly at the place his brother had just occupied. When he heard no answer, he looked across the table and saw that he was alone.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries bolted from his seat the moment Arnold left. His skin was crawling and he was breaking out in a cold sweat. Unable to think clearly beyond the self disgust that made him want to retch, the brunet dashed into the first door that looked half welcoming – the men's restroom – and cast a locking charm behind him.

With a heartfelt groan, Aries leaned against the counter and looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was still neat and tidy, his robes impeccable, the only outward sign of his inner agony was the look in his eyes. He remembered seeing that same look in Sirius' mirror, the first time he'd opened it.

"Oh Mum," he whispered, staring at his reflection. "What would you think of me now? And Hermione, too. Colin, Dennis, Justin, Dean, Seamus. Calling you spores of a fungus, proclaiming that you're corrupting the wizarding world."

Aries turned on the cold water tap in the sink and splashed some on his face. It was icy, making a chill run up his spine that, for once, had nothing to do with internal forces.

Gradually, his heart began to calm down and the frantic terror and disgust faded away, allowing him to think more rationally.

"You're doing it for the war," he told himself firmly. "This is the best way. This is how you'll defeat him. Never forget why you're doing this."

Finally, Aries felt close enough to normal to head back into the main area of the pub. He cancelled the locking charm and pulled open the door, only to find himself face to face with a scowling Severus. The black haired man had one fist raised to knock, apparently having tried the door and found it locked.

"There you are," Sev said flatly, his voice almost a growl.

Aries felt new guilt well up, this time at having pulled a runner on his friend. The other man ran narrowed eyes over Aries' face, likely noting the damp, disheveled look.

"Are you well?"

"I'm fine," Aries smiled broadly and raised his arms as if to showcase his health. "Probably just some bad fish; I'm feeling much better."

Since Sev still wasn't showing any sign of moving, Aries stepped to the side to move around him. When they were shoulder to shoulder, the Slytherin put a hand on his arm to stop him.

"Aries, things will get better," he said, almost too low to be heard. "Don't be afraid of the future."

Aries had to bite his lip to halt the thousands of truthful responses that he wanted to say. Instead he settled with a simple, if less honest, sentence.

"I don't."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries shot up in bed, panting and sweating. He'd been having nightmares for a week now, ever since the meeting with Arnold; terrible dreams of corpses with his friends' faces staring at him with dead eyes. Dreams of Cedric Diggory, which he hadn't had since Voldemort started infiltrating his mind in fifth year, had returned with a vengeance. He hadn't slept more than five hours a night since he had agreed to join the Dark Lord.

He was really getting sick of this.

Although the clock on his bedside table told him it was "Only 3 AM, nowhere _near_ time for waking!", Aries threw off the covers and wandered into the main sitting room. Better to be up and reading than to go back to sleep and face another nightmare. He picked out a book from the bookshelves – one of the many he kept checked out from the library, much to Madam Pince's annoyance – and settled on the couch, lighting a candle with a wave of his hand.

_Although favored by many wizards, the Jinx class of spells is, unfortunately, of little use in practical duels and life-or-death situations. A practiced duelist will generally wear spell-resistant clothing, which, although vulnerable to spells of a certain power level, often succeed in stopping low-level spells…_

The dry dissertation on proper defense was enough to put almost anyone to sleep, but Aries sat with his back ramrod straight as he read so that he wouldn't be caught off guard by another horrible dream.

By the time the first rays of light had made their way through the windows – which Aries and Charles both agreed were likely fake, as they were near the center of the castle – the Spellsmith had reached the chapter on proper glove care and how it affected wand use. His brain was numb after hours of the same dull style of writing, which was the effect he had been going for at the time. A numb brain made it harder for guilt and shame to hit him over the head.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Charles, woken by the rising sun, wandered blearily into the sitting room. He stopped short, though, at the sight of his friend sitting cross-legged and stiff-backed on the couch, a book balanced on his knees and dark circles under his eyes. This had become a common sight in their quarters ever since Aries' meeting with Sev and his brother. Quite frankly Charles was sick of it.

"Merlin, Aries," he snarled groggily. "You're going to kill yourself if you keep up like this."

Aries looked up from his book with dull eyes that said, though the boy himself was silent, "I know."

Charles sighed, calling a house elf for breakfast. He sat next to his friend, who was now watching him as avidly as he had been reading.

"Look, you haven't told me what happened, but it's not as if I can't guess," the redhead said frankly. "I've been around this type of people my whole life, and I know the kinds of things you have to say to appease them. You probably had to indirectly badmouth a fair number of your friends from back home, right?"

Aries nodded, looking away in shame. Charles hesitated for a moment, then continued, hoping he was saying the right things.

"A…man I once respected a lot…he once told me of a time when he was really mad at himself. He'd done something horrible, and he wanted to forget. So he went out and got really drunk, I mean absolutely smashed. When he woke up the next morning, he of course had a horrible hangover, but he refused to take a potion for it, because he said it felt like something he deserved. The hangover eventually went away, and the guilt sort of went away, too; as though having a hangover took the pain from inside his head and made it physical. Now, I'm not suggesting you cut up your arms or anything like that – I don't want you doing something stupid and dangerous just because you're feeling a little down – but I think you should do _something_ to get this…this pain out of you before it kills you."

The house elf returned then with a full platter of food and laid it silently on the table before popping back out. Aries watched the process as though fascinated, keeping his gaze as far from Charles' face as possible. Hoping that his friend was at least considering the idea – and considering letting him help, as Charles didn't want Aries to do something harmful to himself alone – the redhead headed over to the little alcove to eat breakfast.

Aries still hadn't said anything by the time they had finished eating and Charles had headed to the bathroom to shower. He went through the day alone as he had business at the Ministry. They had promised him a job in Accounting, but something seemed to be holding them back, as they had now responded five times to his more and more insistent Owls with "We will contact you at the first opportunity, please wait patiently." He was beginning to think it was more than just the usual bureaucratic red tape slowing things down.

In any case, he returned to Hogwarts late that evening to find Aries waiting for him, a small piece of parchment in one hand.

"What's that?" he asked, hanging up his cloak. "A letter from Severus?"

"No," Aries said, his voice almost a whisper. "It's what…what I want you to do."

Charles took a moment to understand what he meant before he recalled the conversation from that morning. Swallowing hard, he sat down in the armchair across from the couch.

"What is it?" Charles asked, gesturing at the parchment. Aries slowly, reluctantly, handed it over to the redhead, who saw what looked like a very straight tree with about a dozen oddly-shaped branches.

"They're Ogham runes," Aries explained. "I'd like you to mark that symbol on my back, over my left shoulder blade."

"I take it you don't want me to do a simple image-transference spell."

Aries shook his head.

By the time they both went to bed that night, Aries had a black tattoo of a word written out in Ogham runes on his back. And though Charles saw him laying down gingerly on his stomach, grimacing each time he moved his left arm, the dark bags were gone from Aries' eyes the next morning.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The 3rd of August came more quickly than Aries expected. It was a Thursday, and the day before he finished the wards on the castle. He hoped the meeting wouldn't be too draining, because the final alterations of the wards would take a lot of energy and concentration. Thankfully he hadn't done too much damage during the week of sleep deprivation, and he had managed to correct his few mistakes quickly after Charles' ingenious solution.

Charles hadn't asked, of course – and Aries had not and would not volunteer the information – what the runes now on his back meant. He had searched the whole day to find one word that would let all his feelings of guilt, anger, hatred of both himself and Voldemort, and regret escape into the physical. Finally, he had settled on a common, short, simple word: Shame. And now those feelings weren't gone, but they were out in a place where he could bear them, quite literally, on his back.

Aries denied himself dinner that evening, though he did accompany Charles to Hogsmead. He wasn't hungry, and he had a feeling there was a good chance he'd get sick later that night – it was much easier to hide dry heaves than full blown regurgitation. One of the life lessons he had learned in early childhood.

Arnold had said that the portkey would activate at 9 o'clock, but Aries wasn't taking any chances. At 8:30, he opened the envelope, pulling out a metal key inscribed with the Dark Mark, and clutched it tightly in his palm as he walked around his and Charles' quarters. The redhead was sitting on the couch, reading the newspaper and casting looks that could either be annoyed or worried at Aries every few seconds. No more than a minute before 9, the former Slytherin folded up the paper and fixed his stare on Aries.

"Now listen here," he said pointedly. "You had better come out of this alive, because if you die, don't think I'll leave you alone. I know perfectly well how to summon freshly dead souls, and I'll bind you to a Troll's bum so fast it'll make your ponytail spin."

Aries opened his mouth to respond, but at that very moment the clock began to chime the hour and the portkey activated. The time-traveler was pulled viciously along by the key in his hand, spinning dizzily, until he finally landed in an open field lit only by torches. Severus appeared next to him a moment later.

The two young men stood side by side in silence, eyes straining into the darkness beyond the firelight to see some sign of life. Aries had witnessed an initiation through his connection to Voldemort once, but that had been in a much different time – it had taken place in the dark throne-room dungeon of whatever the Dark Lord's hide out was at the time, and by the time the initiate had arrived, all the Death Eaters had already gathered for a meeting. Now, however, the burgeoning evil overlord had both time and room to spare, as he didn't need to hide his presence from the Order or the authorities. The Aurors had no power, either real or through intimidation, over the Death Eaters of this day and age.

While Aries had been processing this, Severus had apparently been getting steadily more worried. The Slytherin's breathing was harsher than normal, his muscles tense and his eyes flicking spasmodically from right to left, left to right. Apparently Voldemort's intimidation tactics were getting to him quite a bit more than Aries – but that made sense, Sev was still largely a normal 18-year-old, while Aries had been on the wrong side of Voldie's wand too many times to count. But now was certainly not the time for Sev to _behave_ like a normal 18-year-old.

Aries glanced down just long enough to locate Severus' left hand, then rapped him sharply on the knuckles with the handle of his wand. The Slytherin gasped and pulled his hand away, glaring fiercely at Aries, who looked pointedly back at him. Severus knew him well enough to get the gist of the message, and settled down to calmly await whatever was to happen.

He was just in time, as not five seconds passed afterwards before several of the shadows beyond the torches started to move and separate, forming into two dozen black-robed and masked figures. They placed themselves three people between every two torches, leaving the space between the two tallest torches open. Aries and Sev's attention was drawn to that space by a loud hissing and a parting of the long grass as two snakes – one about fifteen feet long, the other no more than four feet – entered the circle.

"_Ssstinky humansss lining up, none of them tasssties,_" the shorter one hissed petulantly. Aries was surprised to recognize the voice of Nagini.

"_Master will be doing magic this night, little daughter,_" the older one, a male, answered patiently. "_You will be fed soon after._"

"_Indeed, both of you will receive marvelous creatures to eat when we are done._"

Aries and Sev's heads both shot up from where they had been watching the snakes circle about. A new figure had entered – the Voldemort Aries remembered from Dumbledore's pensieve, draped in fine emerald robes.

"_Now, come back to me Naja, Nagini. Lay at my feet._"

The snakes obeyed, curling about the mutilated man's legs as Voldemort conjured a high-backed wooden throne for himself.

"Welcome, loyal followers," Voldemort nodded his head first to the many masked Death Eaters, and then to Aries and Sev, "and our promising newcomers. Welcome all."

The first Death Eater to Voldemort's right stepped forward.

"Who presents these two men for entry into our illustrious brotherhood?" the man boomed.

"I do." Aries recognized the voice of Arnold Prince Snape behind him as the Death Eater placed one hand on his shoulder and another on his brother's.

"What strengths do they bring to us?"

"These men are both Journeymen in their fields – Potions and Spellsmithing – and are, to all accounts, well on their way to becoming Masters."

"Those are very prized skills," Voldemort hissed languidly. "Step forward, Severus Prince Snape and Aries Hesuchazo."

Arnold pushed them forward two steps, then down to their knees. They were now close enough that Aries could see the serpent insignia on Voldemort's boots – which was, in his opinion, far too close for comfort.

"It would please me greatly to have one young man with as much promise come voluntarily into our fold," the Dark Lord pronounced grandly. "Two such young men is a great boon for our side. You, Arnold, will be amply rewarded."

"Thank you, my Lord," Arnold bowed deeply and returned to his place in the circle.

"Now," Voldemort stood from his seat and approached the kneeling men. "I assume you know that I desire no less than perfect loyalty in all my faithful subjects. Tell me, why do you wish to join our side?"

At the moment, the Dark Lord was looking at Severus, so he spoke first.

"Because the Ministry and Dumbledore are blind fools," he spat rashly. "They place arbitrary restrictions on magic that should be free for the study and use of anyone with the intelligence to seek it."

Aries blinked at this outburst. He hadn't heard these reasons before.

"Those are very noble, important reasons." Voldemort nodded wisely. "But, you know of our most infamous policy, correct?"

"You believe in preserving the purity of magical blood," Severus answered, his voice wobbling almost imperceptibly.

"And tell me, young Severus," Voldemort continued insidiously, "what is your father?"

"He is a muggle, sir," Severus whispered.

"A what?"

"He is a filthy muggle, sir, and I am ashamed to share his blood!" Severus shouted.

Voldemort stared at him for a long time, using Legillimency, by Aries' reckoning, before finally smiling and proclaiming, "You will do. Now, on to young Aries."

The vaguely snake-like figure of the Dark Lord swooped down on Aries very quickly.

"Tell me, young Spellsmith," he hissed, "what makes you want to join my ranks."

Aries strengthened his Occlumency, hiding everything that he truly was deep inside where he couldn't even find it, then met the slitted red eyes.

"I admit, though not without shame, that not one month ago I was unsure of which side, if any, to take in the current conflict," he said firmly. "But Dumbledore has broken any respect I may have had for him irreparably, and I will do anything to bring about his downfall. I cannot live in a society that holds that _codger_ on a pedestal."

He felt Voldemort probing inside his mind, seeking out the memories and meanings behind his words, and freely gave up the memory of Dumbledore's attempt to bind him to Hogwarts.

"Indeed, it pleases me to know that old fool is still making mistakes." Voldemort smiled in a way that sent a chill up Aries' spine. "He does so much of my work for me! You both will make fine additions to my ranks. Bare your left arms."

Expecting this, both Aries and Severus were quick to comply, holding out their unblemished limbs in offering. Voldemort drew his wand – the one that bore the same phoenix feather core as Aries' own – and touched it first to Severus' arm.

"_Conscriptum Mordrus,_" he incanted. A dark pulse of magic thrummed into Severus' arm and the Slytherin bit his lip to keep from crying out as smoke drifted up from the burning flesh.

Aries swallowed as the same wand touched his own arm and the same words were chanted. He felt the magic enter him like a disease; cancer of the soul. The pain came on its heels, physical pain of his own skin and muscle tissues smoldering, emotional pain of taking on the mark of ownership of his most hated enemy, and magical pain of being forced to accept his first invasive touch of truly evil magic. The textbooks may have said that magic could be Dark and it could be Light, but it could not be evil; Aries knew different – anything and everything that came from Voldemort was evil.

As if from a great distance, the brunet heard the Dark Lord speaking again.

"You are dismissed. When you feel my call, apparate to my side immediately. And rest assured, I will be calling for you very soon."

Aries had a sinking feeling that Voldemort had been looking at him when he said that last bit. As he prepared to apparate back to Hogsmead, his last thought was:

_I need to get a new wand._

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: I would like to thank very much everyone who reviewed for the last chapter, no matter how short or long, sarcastic or earnest, your review was, it helped me get through the last two weeks and keep writing.**

**You guys are the best!**

**PANTZ,**

**Emerson**


	19. Employment

**Disclaimer:** Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary: **How much wood must a woodchuck chuck before you will call him a man?

**A/N: **SORRRYYY! Believe me, I really wanted to get this up here faster, but the combination of trying to sell our current house, preparing to move into the new house, and preparing for all our various guests, as well as a nasty case of Writer's Block, set me back about…two months, I think. Well, anyway, it's up now, and that's what's important. Well, that and the next chapter. Read on!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**Chapter 19: Employment**

When Aries appeared in the dark streets of Hogsmead a split second later, he felt the adrenaline, which had kept him from passing out during the pain of the marking, start to fade. By the time he had left the village proper, he was exhausted and drooping, barely managing to focus on the trail ahead of him through the throbbing in his arm. He hardly even noticed Charles, waiting for him anxiously in the Entrance Hall, and only managed to acknowledge the other man's presence when Aries felt him throw an arm around his back to help support him.

"Come on," Charles murmured, "let's get you to bed. You'll be sore enough in the morning without passing out on the floor."

The new Death Eater made a vague noise that, he hoped, conveyed his agreement with this idea. Though, truly, Aries hadn't heard anything beyond 'bed'. His eyelids felt like they had lead weights attached; he blinked once and found himself in front of the door to their quarters, again and he was beside his own bed. Two more blinks and he was out for the night.

_He stumbled backward._

_"Don't be a fool," snarled the face. "Better save your own life and join me…or you'll meet the same end as your parents…. They died begging me for mercy…"_

_"You're a liar!" Harry snarled. "My parents died bravely, and I will never join you!"_

_The face started laughing, Quirrell's back convulsing with the Dark Lord's mirth._

_"Why don't you take your hand out of your pocket and see?" Voldemort asked, smiling triumphantly._

_Harry took his left hand out of his pocket and held it out in front of him. The sleeve of his robe fell down, revealing the blackened burn of the Dark Mark. A pale, long fingered hand closed over the mark and his arm flared up with searing pain._

_The walls melted, turning into a large cavernous chamber, water covering the floor._

_"You've got to help me, Aries," Harry said, raising Ginny's head. "We've got to get her out of here. There's a basilisk…I don't know where it is, but it could be along any moment…Please, help me."_

_Aries didn't move. Harry, sweating, managed to hoist Ginny half off the floor, and bent to pick up his wand again._

_But his wand had gone._

_"Did you see –?"  
He looked up. Aries was still watching him – twirling Harry's wand between his fingers._

_"Thanks," said Harry, stretching out his hand for it._

_Aries stepped back, putting the wand further out of reach._

_"Look, you've got to help me!" Harry cried, beginning to panic. "If the basilisk comes –"_

_"It won't come until we're called," Aries interrupted him._

_"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded._

_In answer, Aries lifted his sleeve, baring the Dark Mark on his arm, then nodded toward Harry's arm. The Gryffindor looked down at his own already bare arm, and saw a matching mark. Pain washed through him again, and he heard Aries whisper:_

_"He's calling."_

_But when Harry looked up, Aries, Ginny and the cavern were gone. Now he was in the small classroom at the top of the North Tower. Trelawney's eyes were rolling back in her head as she spoke in a voice not her own._

_**"It will happen tonight. The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight…the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than ever he was. Tonight…before midnight…the servant…will set out…to rejoin…his master…"**_

_Harry turned around and found himself in chains, with Ron on one side and Professor Lupin on the other. The full moon rose and Lupin transformed, breaking Harry's bonds and revealing a mark on his left arm which burned. A ghostly voice echoed in his mind as he ran from the werewolf._

_"Return to me…"_

Aries awoke, drenched in icy cold water, before the horrific nightmare could go any further. He sat up, gasping and sputtering and grabbed at his glasses, focusing on Charles who, he could now see, was standing by his bedside levitating an upturned bucket. The sopping brunet couldn't decide whether to demand an explanation, or give the redhead a heartfelt 'thank you', so he stalled for time by casting a drying charm on himself instead. Charles broke the silence first, though.

"You seemed to be having a rather extreme nightmare," he said, matter-of-factly. "Do you need my help with your back again?"

Aries thought about that for a long moment. True the nightmares had been horrible, but not in the same way as the guilt-plagued visions of before. In fact, guilt hadn't even factored into these dreams, instead they were filled with pain, both emotional and physical.

"No thanks," he decided. "They'll probably go away on their own once my arm stops hurting. About…about how long will that take?"

"Mine took three days before the last ache went away, I think," Charles admitted, sitting next to him on the bed. "It was rather hard to tell, as I was Called the same day."

Aries nodded, looking thoughtfully off into the distance, his mind full of memories – both those brought on by the dreams, and those of the previous evening.

"What's he like in this time?" Charles asked hesitantly. "The Dark Lord, I mean."

"He's not as…snake-like, physically," Aries admitted. "He's done a number on his body, with all his Dark magic use, but he still looks more human than not. However, he's no more sane than he ever was. And his magic is _filthy_."

He fell silent, and Charles didn't seem to have anything to add, so they both sat for several minutes, withdrawn into their own minds. Finally, Aries shook his head and hoisted himself off the bed.

"Well, even if my arm won't stop hurting for days, I can't just sit around waiting," he said brusquely. "I have a job to finish today."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Charles watched his friend go, hoping he'd be alright. He knew Aries was durable – he would have to be, to have survived this long – but carrying Voldemort's mark could wear down any man. He should know.

Shaking his head against darker thoughts, the redhead gathered his papers – several fully filled-out applications and a five-foot long Curriculum Vita (almost entirely false) – and his cloak. Charles Hesuchazo had a meeting for which he did not want to be late.

The ministry was bustling, as per usual on a Friday. All the wizarding world's natural procrastinators came out of the woodwork as they realized this was their last chance to get papers filed before the weekend. Charles had picked this day specifically for that reason; not because he was a procrastinator – Merlin forefend! – but because no one, not even Lucius Malfoy, would look twice at another face in the crowd.

Charles took the lift to level three, bypassed the DMLE entirely, and made his way to a very small office on the far side of the floor, where a shiny plaque read "Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office". Pushing the door open – which included shoving a pile of scrolls out of the way from where they'd barricaded the way – Charles swept inside, slammed his papers on the desk of a barely-thirty Arthur Weasley, and stated:

"I need a job."

Arthur's head shot up and he blinked owlishly at Charles for a moment, as if trying to verify that he was not, in fact, hallucinating.

"That's very nice, young man," he said, hesitantly. "Have you tried applying through the usual channels?"

Charles helped himself to a chair, once he had levitated various muggle contraptions off it.

"I'm afraid the usual channels have a bit of an obstacle for me at the moment," he replied. "I recently learned that Lucius Malfoy, whom I have only met once in my life, has decided to make it his personal mission to ensure the ministry doesn't hire me."

"Ah, victim of the infamous Malfoy Grudge, eh?" Arthur snorted. "Well, I can't say I wouldn't like to rub one in little Lucius' nose, but what exactly can I do to help? This isn't exactly Muggle Artifacts' jurisdiction."

"Come now, Mr. Weasley," Charles smiled charmingly. "Surely you need an assistant, someone to help you with all this paperwork. And wouldn't they leave it to you to decide who to hire? Now, all you'd have to do is send a memo to the Department of Finance listing your department staff as two instead of one, and asking for an appropriate increase in funds, and we're both set. My name doesn't even enter the system until it's too late for Lucius Malcontent to do more than throw a fit."

Arthur looked at him with surprisingly shrewd eyes. The man had worked in the ministry for going on ten years now, and he knew when someone was bending the rules. Charles could only hope his Gryffindor sense of charity – either that or his grudge against the Malfoys – would overrule his Gryffindor sense of fairness.

"You know," Arthur said finally, smiling broadly, "I certainly could use a mind like yours to help in phrasing some of these laws. I will, of course have to create your position, hold a formal interview, and look over your CV, but," the tall man stood and held out his hand, "you can consider yourself hired."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries had to use Occlumency all day to keep the pain of his arm and the painful memories away so that he could concentrate on the wards. He almost wasn't able to finish the final adjustments, because the wards were acting up.

_They can sense the change in your magic,_ an insidious voice inside him whispered snidely. _They know you're tainted._

But, in the end, the Spellsmith was able to bend the magic the right way, though his left arm seemed to hurt all the more for it. He dearly wished he could visit Sev and beg a pain potion off him, but if the Slytherin were in any state like his own, he wouldn't be competent to brew a simple boil cure. And asking Poppy for a no-questions-asked pain reliever was like asking Mad-Eye Moody for a no-questions-asked interrogation.

No, far better to cut his losses and leave Hogwarts now. As soon as he got the Headmaster's approval on the completion of his job, he'd meet Charles and they'd floo to Hogsmead and apparate from there to the two-bedroom flat in London that they'd decided to rent together, so as to keep in touch and consolidate the rent payments. No fuss, no muss, as his uncle used to say.

Unfortunately, Aries' feet seemed to have a different idea, as he looked up suddenly and found himself in front of the Pink Lady's portrait. She hadn't noticed him yet, being thoroughly involved in a whispered conversation with her friend Violet.

_I'll just go in for a minute_, Aries told himself firmly. _I'll just go in, take one quick look around the common room, then leave._

"Dungbombs," he said, making sure to be loud enough for the Pink Lady to hear over whatever scandalous gossip Violet was imparting. The guardian turned to him in surprise, then blushed.

"Oh," she stammered, staying firmly closed. "Oh dear. Oh no, you poor thing."

"What's the matter?" Aries asked, the beginnings of alarm stirring in his gut.

"I can't let you in, I'm afraid," the portrait fretted. "It's a dreadfully awful thing; I was able to let you in just a month or so ago, I know I was."

"What's dreadful? Why can't you let me in?"

"Dark magic, dear," she explained. "You've got it in you, so I can't open up. Godric Gryffindor himself charmed his tower so that no witch or wizard could pass through this portal if they were tainted by magic like that. I'm so sorry; you seem like such a nice young man."

Aries felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. He had seen the protection in the wards when he'd been working on the dormitories, but he hadn't realized that bearing Voldemort's mark would evict him from his own tower. Cautiously, he slipped into Magic Sight and extended a hand to the familiar ward threads that made up this particular protection. They shocked him before he could touch them, and Aries snatched his aching fingers back, holding them close to his chest for protection.

Protection…from Hogwarts.

The new Death Eater felt his knees buckle and he slid to the floor, staring sightlessly at the portrait. The Pink Lady was fussing over him, showering him with useless platitudes, but Aries didn't even hear. He had lost the only home he had ever known.

_I want it back!_ some part of him hissed venomously, and he shivered at the sheer darkness of desire that accompanied that pronouncement. Was even a small part of him prepared to use force, to 'take back' Hogwarts?

_No, _he realized with a start. _But Tom Riddle was._

The scene came to him now, much clearer than the little snippets he had been allowed before, of a not-quite-young Riddle storming through the halls on his way out of the school, having been told by Dumbledore that he would not be allowed to work at Hogwarts. Away from any onlookers, Riddle's face was a mask of anger and fury, but it was just a mask, hiding beneath it feelings of loss, betrayal, and longing. Tom had seen Hogwarts the same way Aries did – as the only true home – and because of that, when Tom's feelings lashed out in an accidental curse on the Defense professorship, Hogwarts had no choice but to accept. Tom Riddle was Her child, just as Aries was, and She could not shirk his magic when it reached out so strongly. Any more than She would shirk Aries now, he recognized, coming out of his trance. True, he could no longer reach Gryffindor tower, but it was only the one protection that had rejected him. Hogwarts, as a whole, would still – would always – let him in.

With an exhausted, contented sigh, Aries let himself slump from his knees to his side on the floor as sleep overwhelmed him.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Charles found him there that evening when Aries didn't show up for dinner. The redhead jumped to numerous conclusions when he found his friend collapsed at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room, but a simple _"enervate"_ proved that Aries had just been sleeping. The brunet refused to tell Charles what had happened to make him fall asleep in the middle of a corridor, even when the former Slytherin threatened him with dark curses and fates worse than death.

They moved into their new apartment quickly, albeit a day late, under the watchful and disapproving eye of their new landlord, Yacob Halverson. The grumpy old man with a short, sloppy beard kept trying to spy on what they were doing, as if suspecting Aries and Charles of being criminals. The fact that one of the pair had recently become a criminal didn't help matters any, and Aries was jumping at his own shadow by the time Mr. Halverson finally left.

The apartment itself was no help, either. The walls were a repugnant yellow that, combined with the constantly dripping kitchen faucet, didn't support a pleasant ambiance. The 'second bedroom' listed on the lease agreement was, in fact, a bed that could be pulled down from the living room wall. And, to top it all off, the bathroom would be in need of a scouring charm from Merlin himself just to be called disgusting. Charles had just about fainted when he saw the rather large Bundimun in the wardrobe.

All things considered, neither of them could wait to move out, which made moving in all the more onerous. However, by sunset they had unpacked their trunks (Aries had taken the living room, saying he was quite used to less luxurious housing) and made a good start on convincing the Bundimun to leave. Aries promised to start on the bathroom the next day, while Charles would be at his new job.

Charles seriously considered living at the Ministry for a few days so that the brunet could handle all the 'servant's work', but Aries said he'd hide the Bundimun in his bed if he tried it.

"You wanted the cheapest flat," the Spellsmith commented pointedly, "this is the best we'll get for 70 Galleons a month."

"We shouldn't have to pay one Knut for a place like this!" Charles retorted. "This is outright squalor, how dare that crook charge us money for nothing!"

"We have a kitchen, two beds, a roof, a loo, and heat," Aries said dryly. "We're a lot better off than 'nothing'."

Charles just sulked, but he did aim a few scouring charms at the Cooled Cupboard in the kitchen, though he wore a bubble-head charm the whole time.

By the time night fell, the bathroom had finally lost it's stench, thanks to Aries' elbow grease in removing, without magic, what they figured must have been some sort of potion spill; and the Bundimun had decided that it didn't like the new atmosphere of cleanliness and squelched its way to the neighboring flat. Charles had made just enough headway with the kitchen that he agreed to eat a meal prepared in it, so long as they conjured their own dishes.

"By all the magic," Aries groaned as he flopped down on the loveseat in the living room. "I'm looking forward to testing out that bed."

"You're quite welcome to it," Charles drawled. "I just hope we won't have to call a healer for you back come morning."

"Why Charles, you almost sound concerned!" the brunet smirked.

"I am concerned. If you have to go to St. Mungo's, who'll cook my breakfast!"

Aries' laugh was cut short by a gasp of pain as he clutched his arm.

"That still hurting?" Charles asked, frowning; Aries shook his head.

"It stopped after my little nap in the corridor," he ground out, standing up with some difficulty. "He's calling me."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries apparated to the front walk of an extremely large, if rather run down, house. He would have taken time to look at the building more closely, but standing on the top of the front steps, waiting for him, was Voldemort himself.

"My lord," Aries said, bowing down and lowering his eyes.

"You are quite prompt, young Spellsmith," the Dark Lord hissed quietly. "That speaks to your favor. Come, I have a task for you."

"Yes, my lord."

Aries stood and hurried after Voldemort who had already turned and started back into the house. The brunet was careful to walk behind and to the left of his 'master', but he let his eyes wander freely, taking in the…unique decorations around him. Whoever had owned the house before the Dark Lord would clearly not have objected to its current resident. Centuries old portraits of wizards ruling over peasants, or torturing the 'unworthy' adorned every wall, and every door jam was ornately carved with the same design over and over – a snake, holding in it's mouth an egg with a human face contorted with pain.

Voldemort led him through the entryway, past a parlor where a masked Death Eater was attempting to coax Naja to eat a dead fish.

"_Rotten mammal,_" the snake hissed, "_I would rather eat your children than that measly scrap of dead slime."_

"Rabastan, do not bring my snakes such paltry meals again," the Dark Lord practically growled, "or next time you may find yourself feeding them of your own flesh."

"Y-yes master," Rabastan stammered, slipping the fish into his pocket.

From there, Voldemort took Aries down three flights of stairs, below the basement lab and the wine cellar, to a thick steel door.

"These are the dungeons," the dark wizard explained, gesturing as if in welcome. "We have had little use for them before, as my followers prefer to take care of enemies in more…permanent ways. However, their latest acquisition has proved most hardy. The wards on my manor are old and weakening; I will eventually want you to ward the entire building; for now, though, focus just on the dungeon cells."

Alarm bells were going off in Aries' head as he frantically wondered who the Death Eaters might have captured. So many of the people he cared for were candidates that his mind spun at the very thought. Pushing his worries behind his Occlumency barrier, the Spellsmith turned to Voldemort.

"Are there any specific wards you would like, my lord?" he asked.

Apparently it was an intelligent question, because the egoist smirked very slightly before rattling off a whole list. Voldemort clearly wasn't taking any chances with his prisoners; he wanted barrier wards to shut out light and sound to the inside of each cell – individually, so that prisoners couldn't speak to each other from within the wards – as well as a half dozen different type of alarm wards and a complete structural ward to make sure no one could physically break out. Finally, the Dark Lord wanted a barrier ward Specified to block only magic originating from inside the cell, so that any of the Death Eater guards would be free to curse the prisoner to their black hearts' content.

"I should be finished by midnight tomorrow night," Aries promised, "should my lord permit me to break for sleep."

Voldemort agreed to let him leave at five in the morning and return at five in the evening, ostensibly to help keep any of his friends from becoming suspicious. Aries didn't see how anyone who really knew him could _not_ be suspicious if he disappeared all night, slept all day, and then disappeared again right after dinner, but he agreed without complaint, allowing the Dark Lord to open the dungeon door and lock it shut behind him.

Aries headed straight for the cell closest to the exit. Since there was only one prisoner, the young brunet would have bet that the Death Eaters wouldn't bother hiding him or her in the darker parts of the dungeon, further back. As expected, Aries looked through the barred front wall of the cell and instantly locked eyes with the captive.

"Remus Lupin?" he exclaimed.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: There you have it, they both have jobs now. A couple other things to say:**

**Thing the first: For those who have read and enjoyed Me, Myself and I, the wonderful fantastic Rhaenys has made a fanart pic for it, featuring faces of all the alters. It's sooo cool. The pic is at deviantart. com/ deviation/ 37501068/ (remove the spaces). I'll post an actual link on my bio, but it'll probably take a bit to come up.**

**Thing the second: I recently discovered that I do, in fact, have video editing software on my comp, and so was able to make my first ever Harry Potter music video, set to Natasha Bedingfield's "We're All Mad". You can see it at youtube. com/ watch ? v c4Gir6S0Ekw**

**I think that's all for now, happy August!**

**PANTZ,**

**Emerson**


	20. Rescue Heroes

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary: **King Kong hates apples, you know he does.

**A/N: ** Woohoo! Another chapter up in less than a month! School has started again, so I can't make any promises about this continuing, but I have a few breaks between classes where I have nothing to do but write (or space out, which is also fun), so theoretically there should be more chapters on their way. A few people have asked some important questions, so I'm going to address them here (and hope ffnet doesn't kick me off for it).

1) How long are you intending to make this thing? A – not as long as it might seem. Things should speed up pretty quickly from this point, and there'll be maybe one or two chapters between Voldemort's first defeat and his rebirth. I would guess about 30 chapters total, so 10 or so more.

2) If the wards on Gryffindor tower keep out Dark magic, how did Charles get in? A – I wanted to fit this in somewhere in this chapter, but I couldn't find a place for it, so I'll cop out and put it here. The reason Aries couldn't get in wasn't as simple as 'he had the Dark mark'. Rather, it's because the Dark mark was 1, fresh; 2, wanted; and 3, active. Charles' mark was none of those three – yes, it did burn that one time, but that was from backlash. By the way, I do intend on including this in the story at some point, I'm just not sure when. Maybe I'll have an epilogue with Hermione doing the questioning.

I think I got them all. If not, just send me a note with the question, though I can't promise I'll answer. Now, on with the chapter!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**Chapter 20: Rescue Heroes**

Remus' eyes widened as he heard the familiar voice. He could barely make out the brunet queue and thick glasses of his Ancient Runes study partner.

"Hesuchazo?" he gasped. "They got you too?"

"What are you doing here, Remus?" the other man interrupted.

"I was in the wrong place at the wrong time," was all Remus offered.

He had been visiting his father's sister, Marika Vance (also an aunt by marriage of a former Gryffindor two years older than him named Emmeline) when the attack had occurred. While Uncle Edgar chanted protection spell after protection spell at the door of their small house, Marika had apologized to Remus for putting him in danger.

_"We sent back every letter unopened," _she'd said. _"We knew he wouldn't like it, but we hadn't thought it would be so soon. I'm sorry."_

And now, she was dead.

"You have to get out of here," Remus insisted, shaking off the bad memories. "These are bad men, Hesuchazo, and they'll kill you if you give them half a chance. I think they might be in league with," the werewolf lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned closer, "You-Know-Who."

Hesuchazo started to roll his eyes, then stopped and, frowning, scratched absently at his left arm.

"Ah Remus," he said with an ironic smile, "ever half right."

"What do you mean?" Remus asked, though he was starting to figure it out.

"Well, while it's true that the men who captured you work for the Dark Lord who's name shall hereafter be omitted," Hesuchazo smirked widely, as if finding something very funny, but it didn't quite reach his eyes, "but I hardly need saving from them. After all," the brunet rolled up his sleeves and stared with some indiscernible emotion at the hideous tattoo, "they're my comrades. Now if you'll excuse me, I have work to do."

Remus watched, speechless, as Hesuchazo pulled out his wand and began to trace it around the edge of the outer cell wall – typical motions for preparing wards. Switching quickly to Magic Sight, the werewolf was able to see clearly defined Ward threads spreading like luminescent spider webs across the cell wall, the patterns indicating a very solid Barrier against light. As the last threads connected, Remus' cell was suddenly plunged into deepest night, and he began to rage.

"YOU TRAITOR!" he shouted at the top of his considerable voice. "I TRUSTED YOU! I DEFENDED YOU! HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN VOLDEMORT'S LAP DOG, HESUCHAZO? HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN PLOTTING AGAINST US? HOW LONG, HESUCHAZO?"

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries shuddered in relief as the sound Barrier went up and he could no longer hear his friend's angry words. He let out a hitching sigh, biting back the sob, the scream, and the apology that all fought to escape. The Gryffindor's throat stung like he'd swallowed a rose thorn as he wove the first two wards together, making them stronger. No one who hadn't watched the whole process from the beginning would be able to take them down.

He and Remus were the only witnesses.

By the end of the night, Aries had finished all but the magic-suppressing barrier. He could honestly tell Lord Voldemort that a one-sided, magic-based Barrier ward was a class C ward and far too difficult, even in small areas, to start without resting. But that wasn't his real intention.

After the Dark Lord came and released him (and after much apologetic obeisance on Aries' part) the Spellsmith disapparated to his and Charles' flat. The redhead must have been waiting for him on the couch and fallen asleep, because he startled so badly he fell on the floor at Aries' appearance.

"It's just me, Charles," Aries whispered. "You need to go to Dumbledore."

"Already?" Charles scoffed. "I wouldn't think you'd be trusted enough to have information this quickly."

"I'm a Spellsmith," Aries pointed out dryly.

Charles grimaced, but nodded.

"What have you found out?" he asked.

"Remus Lupin has been captured."

"WHAT?" Charles exclaimed. "And he's not dead?"

Aries nodded, refusing to make eye contact and swallowing hard.

"What aren't you telling me, Aries," the redhead demanded.

"The Dark Lord has me putting up wards in his dungeon," he admitted. "Tonight, I'm supposed to go back and add a ward to block magic from inside the cells. Charles, Remus is the only person who has a chance of unraveling those wards. Someone has to get him a wand _today_."

"Today?" Charles echoed incredulously.

"You have less than twelve hours until I'm due back." Aries drew his wand and found a blank roll of parchment in the nearby bureau.

"_Recordatio_," he commanded, and parchment was soon filled with an exact replica of the building where Remus was being held. "The stairs are straight through the front door, then down a hallway to the right. The dungeons are three flights down, and Remus is in the first cell. Only one person needs to go, just get Remus a wand!"

Charles inspected the picture for a few moments, until Aries snapped at him to go. The former Slytherin apparated to Hogwarts' gates and sprinted up to the doors and through the hallways. By the time he reached the gargoyle that guarded the headmaster's office he was far too out of breath to call out, so he knocked as loud as he could on the statue's head.

In mere moments, the staircase opened and Dumbledore stepped out into the hallway.

"Charles? Whatever is the matter, dear boy?" he asked, concerned.

"Remus…captured…Death Eaters," Charles gasped. "Plan…to rescue…him." He waved the parchment about as if it would explain everything.

Dumbledore said nothing for a long while, then looking at Charles with somber eyes, gestured for the young man to follow him up the stairs. Charles was allowed to catch his breath, as Dumbledore waited for them to be lifted up to the office door. After a minute, the redhead was breathing normally and had straightened his posture. He was therefore properly prepared for the shock he received when the door to the Headmaster's office opened to reveal four very tired-looking Gryffindor Alumni.

"Charles?" James asked, frowning. "What are you doing here?"

"The same thing you are," Charles guessed, nodding a greeting at everyone in turn; even Lily, who seemed more intent on comforting her boyfriend than worrying about Remus.

"You want to help plan Remus' memorial?" Peter asked, clearly confused.

"What? No!" Charles' eyes went wide in shock. Was that what they really thought? "He's not dead!"

"Charles," Sirius growled, "his aunt was attacked while he was visiting, the _bloody_ Dark Mark was over the wreckage. Remus. Is. Dead."

"No, he's not," Charles sighed and spread the parchment out over Dumbledore's desk. "He's being held captive in this building."

"How do you know this, Mr. Higgins?" Dumbledore asked.

Charles' shoulders tensed at the question. He cursed Aries for not being there to tell the story for him. After all, it was all the Gryffindor's stupid plan.

"I know…someone," he explained haltingly, "who recently…joined V-Voldemort."

As he expected, there was a raucous interruption at his claim, ranging from declamations against anyone who helped a Dark wizard, to frightened outrage that he had uttered the forbidden name. Soon, however, Dumbledore got the quieted down and Charles was able to continue.

"This person has decided to provide me with information concerning Voldemort's activities. They told me that Voldemort has…someone putting up wards in the dungeon where Remus is being held." The young man explained Aries' plan and gave directions to the proper cell.

"All that's left is to decide who's going in and determine a safe way to get one person in and two people out," he finished.

There was a moment of stunned silence, before Sirius, James, and Lily all stood up and declared:

"I'm going."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at the group, but he shook his head.

"As admirable as your desire to help your friend may be," he said gently, "there are a few people I know who have slightly more training. Give me half an hour to contact them. If, at that time, none are able to go, then we will talk."

"That's half an hour wasted!" Sirius shouted, but James put a hand on his friend's arm.

"Sirius, c'mon," he said, following Peter out of the office. "You too, Charles. I think we ought to have a word."

Charles agreed, seeing the headmaster's eyes dim a little as they left. He knew the older man had to have guessed who the spy was – after all, who else did Charles know? – but he was grateful the old man hadn't said anything. The more people who knew Aries was a spy, the more dangerous for him it would be.

The Marauders didn't go very far once they'd left Dumbledore's office, sitting down on the floor of the hall right outside the gargoyle. However, once Charles had joined them, James put up a silencing ward so that, if any of the staff (or, Merlin forefend, Filch!) wandered by, they wouldn't overhear anything.

"I want to know more about this friend of yours," he asked.

"I really can't tell you much," Charles admitted, looking above Peter's head. "If one of you figured out who my spy is, there's that much a greater chance of that person being discovered." He held up a hand to forestall the objections that were coming from all sides. "Now I know you wouldn't mean to say anything, but just knowing could be a hazard. If any of you were captured and," he swallowed to keep his voice even, "tortured for information, this person would be dead."

"I understand," Lily said strongly, before any of the others could say anything. "I even agree with that. But none of us really care who this person is. We just want to know one thing, can we trust them with the lives of Remus and whoever goes in there to get him?"

"Yes," Charles replied without hesitation, even smiling a little. If there was one thing that could be said of Aries Hesuchazo or Harry Potter, it was that he would always be trustworthy to those working against Voldemort. Though he could lie like an asp if he had to.

"That's good enough for us," said Lily firmly.

"It's not good enough for me!" Sirius protested. "This is one of my mates in danger; I want to know your 'friend's OWL results, dates, ancestry, house, everything, and I'm not agreeing to this half-flooed plan until I do."

"Sirius, shove off," snapped James. "I know you're worried about Remus, but there're more people on the line than just him."

"People outside your immediate social circle," Lily added scornfully.

"What, I'm supposed to give an owl dropping about whether some Death Eater lives or dies?" Sirius shook his head in disgust.

"That 'Death Eater' is putting his life on the line to keep _your mate_ alive!" Charles almost shouted.

"Stop!" Lily interrupted. "We can't go on if we're upset like this. Charles, you just gave away your friend's gender, I don't think you should say anything more." Charles nodded cursing himself mentally for the slip. "And Sirius, I know you odn't like it, but if you do anything to endanger the person who's giving us a chance to save Remus, I swear to Merlin I'll poison you in your sleep!"

The fiery redhead had turned her back to Charles when she began to speak to Black, so the former Slytherin couldn't see her expression, but his self-preservation instinct said that was a good thing when he saw how terrified Sirius looked.

"I'm with Lily," James declared, putting an arm around her. "Peter?"

"I-I'm with you, James," the chubby boy stammered, looking shocked he had been asked.

Sirius glared sullenly at the floor, but stayed silent.

They all sat around awkwardly, waiting, for several more minutes before they heard the grating sound of the gargoyle statue opening up. Canceling the silencing ward, James stood up, closely followed by Lily and the rest, to see what had been decided.

"Come with me, please," Dumbledore beckoned. "We have much to discuss."

They followed the headmaster back to his office and were surprised to see another man – a tall brunet wearing Junior Auror's robes – waiting for them.

"Frank?" Sirius exclaimed.

"Hey guys. Er…and Evans," the man greeted them somewhat inelegantly, then turned to Charles. "You must be Charles Higgins. I'm Frank Longbottom – graduated from Gryffindor two years ago and played on the Quidditch team with those jokers." He jerked a thumb at Sirius and James.

"Nice to meet you." Charles shook his hand calmly enough, but was inwardly amazed that this tall, strong, confident young man could be the father of Neville "Disaster Area" Longbottom.

"I spoke to a good number of people," Dumbledore interjected, sitting down behind his desk. "None of them are able to drop what they are currently doing on such short notice without drawing suspicion to themselves. Frank here agreed to give his advice on which of you would be best suited to this particular mission."

"Why can't we all go?" Sirius demanded, apparently feeling contrary.

"Why don't we just go in with targets painted on our backs," Charles muttered. Dumbledore sent him a chiding glance before answering Sirius.

"I'm afraid it is twice as difficult for two people to sneak into a stronghold as it is for one, and for three to get back out…Well, I'm sure you see the difficulty."

Sirius scowled.

"Alright, well, down to business then," Frank cleared his throat. "Er, Lily and Charles, you don't…know Remus that well, correct? At least, not as well as these three." He motioned to James, Sirius and Peter, who all nodded vigorously.

"I'd say we know him pretty well," said Lily, "but true, not as well as them."

Charles realized they must be talking about Remus' lycanthropy. He supposed there was a possibility that Voldemort could make something like that an issue, so it would be best not to go in unprepared. The time-traveler could hardly divulge his knowledge, so he shrugged and nodded in agreement.

"Right, in that case I think we should narrow it down to Sirius, James, and Peter," Frank explained the obvious. "Peter, I know how good you are at getting into places," Peter looked like he was about to wet himself, "but we'd also need you to be able to get Remus out, so we want someone a bit better at dueling, just in case. James and Sirius, I know you're both magically powerful, but Sirius, well…"

"What?" Sirius demanded. "What's wrong with me?"

"It's nothing wrong with you per se," Longbottom backtracked, "it's just that you tend to be very…straightforward. And normally that's a good thing. It's just, for a mission like this, we need someone who can be a little sneakier. So James, I recommend that you go."

James nodded gravely, understanding this was not a personal victory, but that he was being charged with great responsibility. Sirius, however, looked like he'd gotten the smaller biscuit.

"So, what's the plan?" the rescuer asked.

Over the next hour, Dumbledore, James, Lily and Charles worked together to make a workable plan A, along with plans B and C, just in case. Sirius helped quite a bit after he'd excused himself and taken his aggression out with a beater's bat; Peter shadowed James' every step in the headmaster's office, but didn't actually contribute anything; and Frank had been forced to return to his job at the Ministry.

By Noon, they had a firm plan. James would apparate to the house and immediately take cover behind whatever was available – trees, rocks, anything. Once he had determined that he hadn't been seen, he would scope out the security on the front door. If need be, he could take out any guards with stunning spells. Then, James would proceed inside and make his way as unnoticeably as possible to the dungeon.

"See if you can't steal one of their cloaks and masks," Sirius added. "They'd never know who you were under one of those."

Once the infiltrator entered the dungeon, he would slip Sirius' wand – graciously volunteered for the task – through the bars to Remus, along with a note telling him he was being rescued, and to take down the wards. To keep track of time, James would have four portkeys to the hospital wing at Hogwarts, set to activate at half hour intervals starting at 2:00. They were to take the first portkey to activate after Remus finished getting himself out. If the last timed portkey had already left before the captive was freed, then there would be one more emergency portkey activated by the word "Alabama". They were, under no circumstances, to waste time attempting to gather information or capture Death Eaters, but were to return to Hogwarts as swiftly as possible.

While Peter, Sirius and Lily walked James out to the apparition barrier, Dumbledore held Charles back, saying he wanted to speak to him alone. The time-traveler had no difficulty guessing the topic of their conversation. The headmaster certainly wasted no time.

"Your contact among the Death Eaters," he said sadly, "it's Aries, isn't it?"

Charles didn't bother denying, and nodded. With a great sigh, Dumbledore bowed his head.

"I knew he was in danger of falling into that path," he admitted. "His friendship with Mr. Snape, while not a bad thing in itself, put him in the influence of those leaning toward the darker side of magic. I had hoped to prevent this with Hogwarts' wards, but it seems I just drove him further away. It does not make me happy that he is putting himself in danger by betraying Voldemort's secrets, but I am certainly glad he is not truly a Dark wizard."

Were he free to speak as he wished, and if he were sure he could trust the headmaster, Charles would have gladly reassured him that Aries was no more a loyal Death Eater than Flitwick, and Dumbledore had almost nothing to do with the Gryffindor taking the Dark Mark. However, it was better for all if the secrets of the future stayed secret, so the redhead held his tongue until the others returned from seeing off James.

"He's gone," Lily announced quietly. "Should we go wait for them in the hospital wing?"

"Oh, James and Remus won't arrive for a while yet," Dumbledore answered, twinkling at them as he stood. "Why don't you all go down to the library first and pick a few books to keep your young minds sharp while we wait?"

The three Gryffindors nodded and left, quite subdued.

"You too, Charles," the headmaster insisted, holding the door open for him. "Unless you would rather see to your friend."

"No, no," Charles walked to the door. "It's best if he doesn't know anything."

The others were already quietly perusing the bookshelves when he arrived. Sirius was browsing in the Quidditch books, Lily in Potions and History, and Peter in Transfiguration. Charles headed for Muggle Studies, figuring he might as well get a head start on his new job. When they all had at least three books, Lily rounded them up and herded them to the Hospital Wing to wait.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries woke at 4:00, feeling incredibly groggy from sleeping during the day. As quickly as possible, he made himself some strong tea and gulped it down, wincing as it burned his throat. A shower and a new pair of robes later and he was ready to apparate.

_I hope Remus isn't there,_ he thought fervently to himself. It would be far more difficult to get the werewolf out without revealing his own loyalties if he had to put up the magic-blocker first.

Placing those worries firmly behind his Occlumency barrier, the Spellsmith apparated to the run-down manor that housed his own personal villain.

No one stopped him as he took the same path to the stairs, and one Death Eater even nodded a greeting as he passed. Not sure if this was a good or bad sign, Aries nodded back without breaking stride.

When he opened the door to the dungeons, the brunet had to fight to keep a grin from breaking out, and he gleefully raised his wand to cast sonorous.

"WHO BROKE MY WARDS?" he shouted.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: Well, there you go! What did you think? Oh, by the way, I just got an email today that Time to Spare has been nominated for Best Time Travel fic in the Sorting Hat Awards! I'm so excited! I'm gonna go jump up and down a bit, don't mind me XD**

**PANTZ,**

**Emerson**


	21. Progress

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary: **Diaper fee for chimp brides.

**A/N: **Okay, another chapter. Not quite as soon as I'd have liked, but here it is. Also, I'm still making Harry Potter music videos, so if you want to watch more of them you can find them all at www .youtube. com /profile videos? User machy22 (remove spaces – I'll put the actual link on my bio page).

On to the chapter!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**Chapter 21: Progress**

Within moments, the stairs were filled with thundering footsteps. Aries didn't blink as the door burst open and Voldemort stormed in, half a dozen Death Eaters at his heels.

"Mr. Hesuchazo, might I ask what has possessed you to make such a racket?" the dark wizard sneered.

"Just look!" Aries gestured furiously at the tattered remains of his ward threads. Remus must have been in a hurry – he'd brought down wards three cells down. "Someone broke my wards; _my wards!_ I worked for hours and now all that work is ruined! I'll have to start all over from scratch to repair the damage."

Voldemort had barely glanced at the actual wards, instead looking intently at the now-empty cell.

"The werewolf is gone!" the Dark Lord hissed dangerously. He turned to the gathered crowd. "Who did this?"

No one dared answer. Aries shifted his attention to the Death Eaters as well.

"Who broke my wards?" he growled.

"Who released my prisoner?" Voldemort echoed.

The innocent pack shrank back, suddenly unsure of which wizard to fear more – the annoyed Dark Lord, or the irate Spellsmith.

"Why are you all just standing there?" Voldemort demanded. "Find who did this, and while you are at it, see if you can't find Lupin as well!"

Terror-stricken, the flock hastened to obey. Aries waited until they were halfway back out the door to speak.

"My lord," he said, calmer now. "I'll need more energy than I have available to me at the moment; might I use one of these useless dirt-eaters as an aid? That way, I should have your wards finished by tomorrow morning."

It was a lie, of course. Aries had more than enough energy – and would have more after he re-absorbed the broken wards. But he wasn't about to let Voldemort know that, and any opportunity to suck the magic out of a Death Eater wasn't to be wasted.

"You?" Voldemort turned his glare on Aries; the younger wizard wondered if he had perhaps miscalculated. "Your wards didn't last one day; I should kill you for your uselessness!"

Well, now, that was just hitting below the belt.

"The wards weren't finished!" Aries protested hotly. "I hadn't anchored them yet because I still had to add the final barrier, the one _you_ specifically requested. My wards are harder than a rock wall to break once they're anchored, I promise you that!"

Voldemort regarded him silently for a long, tense moment. As his anger wore off, the Spellsmith hoped he hadn't gone too far, hadn't done something irredeemably stupid. Who knew better than him how vicious Voldie's temper could get? Aries very nearly jumped out of his skin in surprise when, moments later, the Dark Lord began to laugh. It wasn't the high, cold laugh of his memories, either, but something closer to a genuine laugh of mirth.

"You stay here and clean up this mess," the dark wizard directed, still smirking. "I'll send down one of my younger followers to assist you in rebuilding the wards."

Aries thanked him and waited until Voldemort had left to nearly collapse in relief. He had been certain for a moment that he would be getting a refresher course in the Cruciatus Curse; thankfully, the Dark Lord had a twisted sense of humor.

The Spellsmith had just finished taking down the remnants of the wards Remus had broken when the dungeon door opened and someone even younger than Aries nervously entered.

"Pardon me, the boy said tentatively, "are you the Spellsmith?"

"I am," Aries confirmed. "You must be the one the Dark Lord was sending to help me?"

"Yes sir. My name's Regulus, Regulus Black."

Aries nearly swallowed his tongue. Throwing up a quick Occlumency shield, he managed to respond.

"I'm far too young to be called 'sir'. Call me Aries."

"Yes si-er…Aries." Regulus shut the door behind him and looked uneasily at the dungeon cells. "What…what do you need me to do?"

He seemed quite anxious about something, so Aries locked eyes with him just long enough to brush his mind with Legillimency. What he found both pleased and saddened him; Regulus was hoping fervently that he wouldn't have a repeat of his last visit to the dungeon, where he'd had to torture someone to prove his loyalty. At the time, the youth had been able to swallow his disgust at his task by reminding himself that his victim was 'only a mudblood'. Obviously, Sirius' younger brother hadn't yet decided to back out.

"We're just going to be putting up a few wards," Aries said reassuringly after he pulled back from Regulus' mind. "Well, that's a lie, we're going to be putting up a lot of wards – if it were just a few, I wouldn't need you here. You're going to help power the spells while I guide them, so that I don't exhaust myself before I'm done."

Regulus looked very relieved at how simple his task was, and listened attentively as Aries directed him to stand near the corner and cast _Protego_. After about an hour, during which Aries managed to complete and anchor the ward set for one cell, Regulus relaxed enough to bring up something he'd evidently been wondering about the entire time.

"If you don't mind me asking, Aries, why am I casting the shield charm? How are you able to turn a charm into wards?"

"Ah, you just finished your sixth year at Hogwarts, right?" Aries confirmed, starting on the next cell. Regulus nodded. "Next year's Charms class has an entire section on ward theory, where you'll learn all about the _Protego_. You see, that particular charm is an ingenious invention of a man named Perry Naoya. It's actually your basic non-specified Barrier ward with encrusted edges."

"What are encrusted edges?" Regulus squinted at his spell as he cast, as if expecting a shell to form where the shield ended.

"You've started to develop Magic Sight, right?" Regulus nodded, which explained the squinting. "Well, you see how, as I cast the wards, the threads spread out until they reach the floor, where I can tell them to stop?"

The young Black watched closely and a look of comprehension crossed his face.

"Well, what Naoya did was entwine the threads around themselves at the desired limits of the shield, which is called encrusting the edges. That way, the ward threads anchor themselves, so they don't spread indefinitely, nor do you have to anchor them to anything physical.

"In order to turn your spell into wards, I catch the threads of the wards before they can encrust, and direct them where to go and what kind of wards to be. It's a really useful trick Master Tobin taught me during my apprenticeship."

"Cool," Regulus gasped with a faint look of awe.

"Ta, Reggie," Aries tipped his head with a grin.

"Reggie?"

"You don't mind, do you?"

"No, it's just…I haven't been called that in a very long time."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

It took two hours for Madam Pomfrey to be satisfied with Remus' health, though the boy himself said he wasn't very beat up. James declared that he wouldn't say a word about what happened until he could be sure he wouldn't have to tell the story twice, so the headmaster allowed him and Sirius to get a bludger and a pair of beaters bats from the Quidditch shed, which worked nicely for easing their frayed nerves. Charles and Lily discussed Muggles – the closet pureblood carefully phrased his questions so he sounded like an American curious about British muggles, rather than a complete ignorant.

Finally, though, the young escapee was deemed fit for interrogation and Dumbledore led them all through his office and into a meeting room full of people. James saw his parents, Remus' distant cousin Emmeline, Sirius' older cousin Andromeda, a slightly scarred auror named Alastor Moody, nicknamed Mad Moody by the papers, and yet more people that none of them recognized.

"Messers Lupin, Potter, Black, Higgins, and Pettigrew, and Miss Evans, I'd like to introduce you to the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore gestured them toward some empty seats as he spoke. "These are a few of those who have approached me with a desire to stand up for the side of Light in this war and fight against the present danger to their friends and families."

No one among the order protested that they were too young, as most of Dumbledore's group were barely older than James themselves. Besides, it was quite apparent to all that they weren't too young to be kidnapped or killed, so they certainly ought to be old enough to fight.

"Well?" Moody interrupted the silence. "One of you lads better start talking, or did I misread the invitation to a debriefing?"

Remus quickly summed up the story of his capture, glossing over the more painful memories.

"I didn't tell them anything, obviously," he remarked. "I didn't know anything to tell. For some reason, they thought I might be valuable, so they stuck me in a cell in a dungeon. I was down there for a day and a half with no food, water, or contact until last night." He hesitated, and James' jaw tightened.

"Tell them what happened then, Remus," he insisted. "Tell them who you saw."

"Early last night, probably no later than midnight, Aries Hesuchazo came into the dungeons," Remus admitted. "At first, I thought he was a prisoner, too, or had somehow wandered in by mistake, and I told him to get out as soon as he could. He…laughed at me, and started putting wards on my cell."

James couldn't stand his friend's mild tone any longer and stood up, scowling fiercely.

"That no good son of a kelpie was a traitor all along!" he declared. "You better check the charms on the sorting hat, headmaster, because Aries Hesuchazo is no Gryffindor."

Charles felt a bit miffed at the general assumption that true Gryffindors were exempt from the temptations and failings of normal men, but he stayed silent, knowing that a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix was neither the time nor the place to bring up philosophical discussions of Houses.

The former Slytherin was glad, as he watched a conversation circulate in which he was not asked to participate, that his friendship with Aries had stayed a secret from all but Severus and Dumbledore himself. Even Dumbledore likely had very little idea of the truth. Thus he would not be required to contribute until the meeting turned to his spy, as no one knew that the spy and Aries were one and the same. All the better for Aries, in his opinion, despite the discomfort of being thought a Death Eater by his own parents.

The redhead was brought out of his musings by the sound of his name being mentioned.

"…Charles gave us the information on Remus' whereabouts," Dumbledore was explaining, "which he said he received from an unnamed spy among Voldemort's forces."

All eyes quite suddenly fixed on the redhead. Moody, especially, gave him a firm, calculating glare. Charles met his gaze fearlessly; this Moody, with two normal eyes, could never glower as unnervingly as his future counterpart.

"How does a wet-behind-the-ears Ministry parchment-pusher get a spy in the enemy camp?" the grizzled auror growled. Charles' eyebrows rose. "Yeah, I heard all about you from Arthur."

The former Slytherin got the clear implication that Moody would also hear from Mr. Weasley if Charles stepped out of line. He nodded his acknowledgement of the warning and returned to the topic at hand.

"I don't quite know how to answer that without compromising my friend's safety," he answered glibly. "Suffice to say that I knew him before he fell in with the wrong crowd and he has decided to use me as his contact. Only Dumbledore and I know who he is, and that is how he would like it to stay."

Many of the Order members looked ready to object to this lack of information, but a signal from Dumbledore and they held their tongues. The meeting continued, gradually dissolving into three or four personal conversations about various topics. James, for instance, was waxing eloquent on Aries' – apparently numerous – faults to his three closest friends and girlfriend.

Charles stood and made his way to Dumbledore, who was deep in thought, staring at his interlaced fingers.

"Sir? Headmaster?" he prodded gently, waiting for the aged blue eyes to focus on him. "If that is all, headmaster, I really must be going."

"Ah, just a moment longer, Mr. Higgins," Dumbledore rose to his feet and led Charles to the small crowd of his fellow recent alumni. "You all have shown me today that you are a part of this war, whether any of us would like it or not. I would like to extend the invitation to formally join the Order of the Phoenix."

"I'm in," James responded immediately, jaw set in a firm expression that, since the first time Charles had met him, reminded the tie traveler of Harry Potter.

"Count me in too," Lily added, green eyes fierce.

"Well, I know I can't let Jamesy out of my sight," Sirius joked, "So I'll join."

Remus and Peter nodded, the latter somewhat tremulously, and Dumbledore turned back to Charles.

"You even have to ask? How else would you get the information from my contact?" Charles sniffed dismissively.

"Very well then," Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling brightly, if slightly less than usual as he reached inside a robe pocked and pulled out a handful of marble-sized crystal balls. "These are how we members contact one another. Simply speak the name of the person to whom you wish to speak and their orb will warm slightly and heat up; once they hold it their palm, you will be able to converse freely. I have a source ball in my office that will record all conversations using the crystal balls and will allow you to leave messages for me, even when I am elsewhere. I will use these to let you know about meetings. Thank you for coming, and for your help today, all of you."

Knowing a dismissal when they heard one, the five young adults nodded goodbye to those among the Order they knew and filed out of the office.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Days passed into weeks, which passed into months and the two friends and roommates settled into a routine. Aries would accept small commissions for Spellsmith work during the weekdays, earning more than enough money to pay his half of the expenses. On the weekends, he fell into his role as a Death Eater, slowly building up the wards on Voldemort's hidey-hole and gaining the Dark Lord's favor. He'd learned that the megalomaniac was, oddly enough, willing to take small shows of backbone and disrespect as long as there were no witnesses among his other followers. However, there were lines not to be crossed, and Aries had learned them at the end of his master's wand. The more Voldemort liked him, the more conversations for which he was allowed to be present, and the more information he was able to pass to Dumbledore through Charles, so Aries suffered the degradation of his chosen place in silence.

Charles was doing rather well in the Ministry. Lucius, as expected, had raised Cain about his appointment, attempting to have him found on grounds of suspicious character, but Aries warned him of when and where the aristocrat was looking, and with Dumbledore's help he was able to evade exposure. Arthur, thankfully, was quite helpful in explaining the quirks of the muggle world, so Charles didn't feel too woefully under qualified for his position.

Severus met with Aries at least once a week, generally for either lunch or dinner, and their friend seemed to be doing as well as could be expected. He had no shortage for money, as he was quickly gaining a positive reputation among those in the know about potions. However, dark circles were ever present under Sev's eyes, and he outright refused to meet with Charles. Whether that was because of shame or because he had finally connected Charles' supposed lineage with his own political position, neither time traveler knew – Sev made sure to artfully steer conversations away from anything to do with current politics or Voldemort, even though Aries had heard from fellow Death Eaters that the Dark Lord valued the young prodigy's potions far and above those commercially available. Rumor had it that Severus had been added to the team designated to research a possible Elixir of Life, but Aries hoped it was nothing more than gossip.

Regulus assisted Aries a few more times, though once the school year started he was rarely available. They continued to talk, and Aries made a few carefully sculpted casual remarks that, while completely pure of any hints of disloyalty, would hopefully inspire the younger Black to think about his current lot in life.

Eventually even Christmas came and went. Charles received gifts from the Order members who knew him best, as well as a small token from Severus – it was sent anonymously, but who else would give him a potion to make him temporarily impervious to cold? Besides, Aries had gotten the same potion, and his _was_ signed by Sev, though Aries received his at the Death Eater party, where the Dark Lord also 'gifted' them with a captured family of a muggleborn third year. That night, Charles gave him a present of three new Ogham tattoos to add to his collection.

All in all, as Aries looked over his new life at the turn of the year, he thought he could count himself lucky. In his old life as Harry Potter, he had been facing a crusade of epic proportions, a mad dash against time. Now, all he had in the future was his six month Journeyman's review with Master Tobin.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries fingered the invitation he'd received by owl two weeks prior as he walked through wizarding Edinburgh. Master Tobin apparently thought it far too much of a hassle to set up an office in Hogsmead now that Aries wasn't living at the castle anymore, and so had invited his former apprentice to his offices at the Spellsmith Guild House, at the center of the magical quarter of the city.

Not being at all familiar with any locations in Edinburgh, Aries had taken the train from King's Cross that morning. It had stopped at Waverly Station, however, which meant that he had to walk from Princes Street all the way to White Park off Gorgie Road to exit the muggle world. Finally, he stood in front of the tall white and red brick Guild House, just five minutes before his scheduled appointment.

Master Tobin's office was on the top floor, showing his high status. As Aries stepped off the lift, he was surprised to see that he was facing only three doors, one marked Guildmaster Heinrich, another Master of Lexicon Ethel Chorish, and the last Master Kon. The gobsmacked journeyman had no idea his teacher was the third ranked Spellsmith in Britain! Still in shock, Aries opened Master Tobin's door and walked heedlessly inside.

Moments later, he was held upside down, spread-eagled in a netting ward.

"What in the name of Merlin's book of spells?" he cursed, disoriented.

Tobin thundered in from around a corner, which likely led to the office proper, a murderous scowl on his face. The scowl shifted for a moment to shock at the sight of his former apprentice before an even greater fury distorted the Master Spellsmith's features.

"And to think I told Jim you had sense!" Tobin growled, pulling out his wand.

Two succinct wand motions later and Aries was standing upright again. The brunet looked hopefully at his bindings, waiting for them to disappear, but they stayed put, preventing him from moving more than a few inches in any direction. Looking back at his teacher, Aries realized that the net wards was much more than a simple test of his reflexes; the man looked like a cauldron about to explode.

"Master To-" Aries got out before he was hit with a silencing charm.

"You infernal idiot," Master Tobin snarled. "You blithering, bumbling fool of a novice! Only someone with that thrice-doomed mark would be caught by my net. I'm going to give you this one chance to run for your life, and if I ever, _ever_ see you again, you'll wish you'd gone to Azkaban, where Death Eater scum like you belong! GET OUT!"

The net suddenly disappeared, dropping Aries unceremoniously on the floor. His teacher's wand nearly hit him on the nose as it fell to point at him, and the journeyman wasted no time scrambling to his feet and fumbling for the doorknob. As he raced back to the lift, Tobin's parting words followed him like the echo of a gunshot.

"AND I'LL STAND IN THE WAY OF YOUR MASTERSHIP TO THE DAY I DIE, ARIES HESUCHAZO!"

The lift doors clattered shut and Aries collapsed on the floor, breath coming in great gulps as he contemplated the mess his life had become.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: Alright, I got a couple other questions in the reviews for the last chapter, but the main one was: Is this going to be Harry/Draco or Harry/Sev? The answer is: This is going to be Harry/No one. I write gen fics, meaning no pairings allowed. Sorry if this disappoints anyone, but that's how it is. Besides, I couldn't write romance if it bit me on the dictator.**

**Please drop me a line to let me know what you think!**

**PANTZ,**

**Emerson**


	22. Friends Again

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here

**Summary: **When King Kong fights Godzilla, how many radioactive bananas do they make?

**A/N: **Whelp, here it is at last, my friends! The problem with ending a chapter with a scene you've been planning for weeks is that, once the scene is done, you have no clue what to do for the next chapter.

Oh, the chapter title is a famous quote from…somewhere…a cookie to whoever can tell me where! (since I don't know cough)

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 22: Friends at First Are Friends Again at Last

Two days later, Aries was holed away in Voldemort's manor working hard on the wards in the potions lab. Previously, he'd only been asked to include the lab in the structural wards of the manor as a whole, but it only took one exploded cauldron – and a nearly missed cabinet full of expensive ingredients – to convince the Dark Lord that more detail was needed. So it was that the young Spellsmith was stuck all night long putting preservation and shielding wards on each cabinet individually – a task that wouldn't have been nearly so difficult were the cabinets not meant to be opened regularly.

Of course, it would also be easier if his back didn't ache so much, but then he might not be able to function.

Unsurprisingly, halfway through the second night of hard warding, the door opened and Severus entered.

"Aries!" Sev exclaimed. Apparently, he was more surprised than his friend. "Still putting up wards?"

"Yep," Aries grunted, anchoring the last thread on his third-to-last cabinet. "Not my fault you potions makers are so hazardous."

Severus smirked and started rummaging through the cabinets below one of the six islands, pulling out a size-10 cauldron and a large stand. Aries groaned.

"You're going to brew _while_ I'm working?"

"That was the general idea," Severus sneered benignly. "Don't tell me your delicate nose will be offended."

Aries stuck his tongue out and flung an isolation ward at Severus' table, making sure that no magical residue would leak through.

"I just don't want your stinky potions magic mixing in with my _real_ magic," he retorted.

Sev laughed as he retrieved the ingredients for his brew. They chatted amiably as they worked, comparing lives outside the Dark Lord. Aries was careful not to reveal that he shared a flat with Charles – Sev had so far kept quiet about Aries' friendship with the squib-born American, but the Gryffindor didn't want to test his friends' loyalties too far. However, steering clear of the topic became considerably less simple just as Aries was finishing up and preparing to leave.

"So, are you still in contact with that Higgins boy?" Sev asked, staring fixedly into his cauldron.

"You mean Charles?" Aries responded stiffly. "Yes, we see each other every now and then. He mentioned that he hasn't heard from you in a while."

"Heard from me?" Sev scoffed. "Why would a mudblood expect to hear from me?"

"This is ridiculous." Aries grabbed his cloak roughly from the top of a stool, sending the seat crashing to the ground, and stormed out, muttering, "I'll see you later, Sev."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Severus watched the lab door shut behind Aries with no small amount of guilt. He knew he was adding to his friend's stress by pulling away from their once-mutual friend. Surely, though, Aries would eventually see things were better this way. After all, Charles was, if not muggle-born, squib-born at best. They were Death Eaters now, part of the elite, surely they had to uphold their noble ideals. Of course, that didn't explain the nagging pain in his stomach whenever he thought about Charles, but Severus was hoping he could ignore that.

Sneering at his own confusion, Severus turned back to his work. Voldemort had asked for an air-born sleeping potion, and the young man believed he had finally worked out the problems in his process.

Dragon's Breath was the only reagent capable of turning a potion into vapor without interfering with the reactions of the other ingredients. The only problem was that the Dragon's Breath, after curing for only three hours began to react with oxygen in the air to produce its smoky product; the sleeping potion had to stew for twelve hours before it became effective. However, Severus wasn't a Senior Potions Apprentice for nothing, and he had – eventually – come up with the solution of bottling the potion in airtight vials before the Dragon's Breath had finished curing. This had the double-benefit of pre-packaging the potion in easy-to-carry containers that could be broken to release the vapors.

The theory was sound, but Sev knew better than anyone that potions could react unpredictably. For all he knew, the lack of oxygen could prevent the gold dust from properly dissolving. He would check his notes again to see if any of the final reactions were exclusively aerobic.

Naturally, he had no sooner unrolled his parchment than his troubles with Aries and Charles sprang back to mind. Severus knew that blood didn't make a wizard – after all, Severus himself was a half blood (much as he might despise his father) and was a highly successful wizard for his age. But, the fact remained that Charles had tacitly admitted, albeit subtly, that he would not join the Dark Lord. All matters of blood aside, they were in a war, Severus was a soldier, and fraternizing with the enemy was simply Not Done.

_I'll just have to accept that my friendship with Charles is in the past,_ he thought to himself.

And that was that.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries got very little sleep over the next few weeks. Between keeping up with his normal commission work as a Spellsmith, his 'extracurricular' work for Voldemort, and his latest pursuit, there just wasn't time. However, the Gryffindor wasn't going to give up, every encounter he had with Severus that included Charles in some way – and there were many – just increased his determination.

He was going to buy a flat in muggle London.

Not just any flat. It had to be clean, with tenants who minded their own business, and it had to have three bedrooms. And it had to have an affordable two-year lease. The latter point was surprisingly difficult as, although the flats cost fewer pounds than in the future, Gringotts' currency wasn't subject to inflation. One Galleon was the equivalent of two Pounds in 1979 and could buy six ounces of Yeti Toenails, while in 1997, one Galleon was the equivalent of five pounds, but could still only buy six ounces of Yeti Toenails. The current average price for a muggle flat of any quality with three bedrooms was £220, or 110 galleons, per month! He only usually earned around 250 galleons a month with his commission work, and needed to keep up with his half of the food and rent in his and Charles' flat, which usually ended up being about 90 galleons each month, plus any extra expenses…

Then again, he'd been saving every knut he could since Hogwarts, and now probably had a decent pile in his vault. It would take £2600, the equivalent of 1300 Galleons, to purchase a 1-year lease on the flat he wanted. Aries wasn't sure how much he had in his account, but he knew it was more than 1000 Galleons.

Early in February, Aries marched into Gringotts like a man on a mission. Which, after all, he was. Bedecked in his Journeyman robes – no matter how unworthy he felt of wearing them – the Spellsmith drew himself up to his full height at the front desk, looking the elevated goblin in the eye. They had a staring contest, which the goblin even conceded.

"May I help you?" the being sneered, wide lips curling unpleasantly.

"I need a private consultation about my vault," Aries demanded, trying to sound authoritative – he'd always been a little intimidated by goblins.

The clerk grunted and turned in his seat, saying something in Gobbledygook to someone hidden behind the desk. Moments later, a rather round goblin with a green cap ambled to Aries' side.

"This is Gripecoin," the first goblin growled. "He'll be your consultant for today."

"Follow me please," Gripecoin drawled, his voice fully an octave higher than the clerk's.

Aries followed the bobbing green cap out of the main lobby to an ornate, heavy looking door, which the goblin opened without any seeming difficulty – a show of strength Aries was not foolish enough to think incidental. Beyond the intricate door was a small office, remarkable in its sparse practicality. Gripecoin motioned his client to the closest plain wooden chair, while he seated himself in a marginally more comfortable-looking chair behind the desk.

"You have questions about your vault," Gripecoin stated without preamble.

"Yes, I need a full account of my vault in its current state, including all deposits and the interest I've earned since the account opened," Aries directed.

Gripecoin's lip curled.

"You could have had such an account by Owl," he practically whined. "Why are you really here?"

Aries hesitated, then shook his head.

"That will come after," he insisted. "First I need the numbers."

Gripecoin didn't look too pleased about that, but he said nothing more and simply opened a drawer of his desk and pulled out a small sheet of yellowed parchment.

"Key please," the consultant requested, and Aries handed it over.

Gripecoin placed the small gold key carefully near the top of the page. Once it was placed to his satisfaction – which took so long Aries was tempted to assume the goblin was delaying out of spite – Gripecoin pressed one of his long fingers on the coin and muttered something. Ink slowly spun its way out of the paper, forming letters and numbers until, barely ten minutes after Aries had entered the office, the accounting of his vault was done.

Grand total, interest included, was 1,226 Galleons, 14 Sickles.

"Well, that's that I suppose," Aries ran a weary hand through his hair. "Thank you for your time, Gripecoin." He set the parchment down on the desk and started to rise from his seat.

"One moment, Mr. Hesuchazo," Gripecoin held up a hand. "If I am not mistaken, you are planning a large purchase that, you have just learned, is beyond the reach of your current savings, correct?"

"Indeed," Aries agreed, sighing.

"Gringotts does not make it publicly known, but we do offer one-month, 1 interest loans for sums less than one hundred Galleons," the goblin said.

Aries blinked, rather gobsmacked by the bargain. Goblins were notoriously stingy beings, and were not wont to give out money without being assured of a return.

"I don't understand," he stammered. "Why would you offer this to me?"

"There are quite a lot of complicated calculations involved," Gripecoin waved one hand dismissively. "Suffice it to say that the record of your deposits and withdrawals put you in the category of 'secure transactions'. Do you want the loan or not?"

"Yes," the young man stated as firmly as he could, given that he was still trying to get his bearings. "80 Galleons please."

"To be paid back by the 15th of March," Gripecoin affirmed, producing a paper for them both to sign.

"Beware the Ides of March," Aries quoted, a tired smirk playing about his lips as he signed his name.

"Indeed," the goblin agreed.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Two exhausting hours later, Aries left Gringotts with a check for £1300, issued by Gunningham Royal Bank of England – the bank run in the muggle world as a front for Gringotts. Apparently they owned 23 shares in Grunnings, and wouldn't Vernon Dursley have an aneurism if he knew that.

That very afternoon, not wanting anyone else to buy that flat, Aries gave the check to Mr. Lanners, the landlord and received a 1 year lease to flat number 423-A. It was a very nice flat, much nicer than his and Charles', with three bedrooms, one and a half bathrooms, a nice view over a park, and absolutely, positively NO bundimuns.

Aries warded the flat more heavily than he had warded Voldemort's manor, over the next month. He had to be careful how often he visited, not wanting anyone to become curious about frequent or extended absences, but finally, five days after he paid off his loan from Gringotts, the flat was ready.

_Dear Sev,_

_I have something urgent to speak with you about, meet me at the Leaky Cauldron at 3 this Saturday, and be ready to travel into Muggle London._

_Aries_

"Charles," Aries said at breakfast, "are you free this Saturday afternoon?"

"I believe so." Charles raised an eyebrow over his tea. "Why?"

"I want to show you something in Muggle London. Can you meet me just outside the Leaky Cauldron at 3:00?"

"I suppose I could be there. Muggle clothing, right?"

Aries nodded. Charles had a keen eye for fashion, and had picked up muggle dress in his first two months at work better than Arthur Weasley ever had or would, so the brunet wasn't worried about arriving to find a redhead in a football jersey and a bonnet or some such.

With those taken care of, all Aries had to do was wait until Saturday.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Severus arrived at the Leaky Cauldron promptly at 2:45, feeling ridiculously out of place in a simple black pullover and slacks under a heavy winter robe. He was not stared at, as no one could see his muggle clothes or his dark mark, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he stuck out like a cursed thumb. Aries hadn't arrived yet, so the Slytherin took a seat, far enough away from the other patrons to avoid being noticed, but not so far as to be conspicuously isolated, and ordered a butterbeer to hide his discomfort.

Aries walked in fifteen minutes later, looking as casual in muggle clothes as he ever had in robes. Sev often forgot, because of Aries' pureblood background, that the other man was raised around muggles, and was likely quite familiar with their culture.

The black-haired wizard waved his friend over and indicated to the waitress that he'd like a second butterbeer brought over.

"Hey Sev, thanks," said Aries, handing the waitress a sickle for a tip. "How've you been?"

"I've been well, Aries," Sev acknowledged. "Work is never lacking for a potions maker."

"Nor a Spellsmith," the Gryffindor agreed, smirking.

They exchanged small talk for a while, Aries asking about his brother and commenting on the weather, Sev replying that his brother was doing just fine and yes, the weather had been rather cool for March, and if Aries had something to show him would he please just do so and stop stalling.

"Alright, alright," Aries laughed. "Just wanted to make sure we had the pleasantries covered. Social niceties are important you know."

"No they aren't," Severus denied, sniffing indignantly and making Aries chuckle brightly.

The pair rose from their seats and tossed a few coins on the table to pay for their drinks. Aries led the way to the entrance, as Sev had to take a moment to transfigure his robe into a more muggle-ish coat. Outside, the chill breeze had Severus pulling his new coat more tightly around him, so he didn't notice at first the man Aries was greeting. One view of the close cut red hair, though, and the Slytherin was ready to bolt.

He hadn't taken one step before Aries' hand shot out and grabbed his elbow. One breath later and the familiar feel of side-along apparition squeezed the air from his lungs.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries let go if his friends as soon as he felt the hardwood beneath his feet and quickly raised the anti-apparition barrier before turning and looking at his guests. Severus looked quite the worse for wear. His face was wavering between green and white, shock and nausea. Charles, who had noticed the third person more quickly and attempted to confront Aries about it, was looking slightly better.

"What…in _Merlin's name_…do you think you're doing," Sev forced out, backing quickly away from the redhead.

"This is ridiculous, Sev," Aries growled.

"What is?" the anxious Slytherin demanded, an angry flush returning color to his cheeks.

"This _rift_," the Spellsmith spat, waving one hand at the empty air between his friends, "between you and Charles. At Hogwarts, the three of us were really good friends; I'm still friends with you, and I'm still friends with Charles, what happened?"

Severus scoffed at Aries' stupidity.

"What's wrong with me?" he shouted. "What's wrong with you! You have to decide where your allegiance lies some time!"

"Is that what this is about?" Charles rounded on the black-haired man. "You stupid prat, I'll have you know the Higgins line is descended from a long line of purebloods. Just because I have a few generations of squibs behind me, I'm suddenly not good enough for the big bad Death Eater?"

The other man paled so dramatically that Aries was worried he would faint.

"You told…?" Sev asked the brunet, voice slightly strangled.

"Yes, I told him," Aries confirmed solemnly. "We're friends. We're all friends. Charles has known we're both Death Eaters for months now, and neither of us is in the hands of the ministry or Dumbledore, are we?"

Sev shook his head, though the Gryffindor wasn't certain whether that was an actual response or just a motion borne of shock.

"In any case," Aries continued, letting his friend regain his bearings in his own time, "I really didn't bring you here to argue. The flat, gentlemen, is a recent acquisition of mine, expertly warded. It has three bedrooms, all of equal sizes, so pick whichever one you wish. This place is unplottable, harder to find than Durmstrang, and harder to break into than Gringotts. Well, without the dragons. We are connected to the floo network, though you need a password to get beyond the hearth. Welcome to Fraternita Aeternus, password 'Safe-House'; inside these walls, the war does not exist."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

It took surprisingly little convincing for Charles and Sev to accept the flat as a place where they could forget the worries of the wizarding world. As a matter of fact, after the idea was presented in full, it took only ten minutes for all three of them to have staked out their own bedrooms. Aries showed them the first-aid potions and materials stocked in the bathroom and the food under preservation charms in the refrigerator, then they all made a few quick trips to keep a couple changes of clothes around. Sev even set up a spare cauldron and a small cupboard of common ingredients in his room.

By the end of the day, when they all had to attend to their own business, Sev and Charles were chatting like friends again, which made Aries feel so much at ease that he was rather more startled than he should have been by the burning of his mark as he lay down to sleep. Groaning in aggravation, Aries retrieved his robes and mask, received only after completing the wards a few weeks ago, and disapparated.

He arrived outside the barriers of the manor and had to walk inside. By the time he actually entered the meeting hall, about five minutes had passed since the start of the call, but only he and a handful of other Death Eaters were there, gathered in front of Voldemort's throne. Aries was surprised to recognize Regulus, as it was the middle of the school year, but he knew himself how easy it could be to sneak off school grounds. He took his place, on his knees next to the others.

"My loyal youth," the Dark Lord greeted them grandly, standing up. "I have called you here today for a special assignment. As you know, we are in a war right now. Not only for our beliefs, but for our very right to survive. Intermingling with muggles pollutes our bloodlines, causing fewer and fewer wizards to be born each year. We, the elite, the enlightened, have a duty to battle this invasion, and tonight you are to have a chance to fight such a battle."

A shiver went through the crowd, though in Aries' case it was more from disgust than anticipation.

"The Athas family, formerly a noble lineage, has fallen into disgrace. Their last heir, a girl named Marlene," Voldemort sneered, showing clearly his thoughts on female heirs, "has married a muggle by the name of McKinnon. They live in a small village on the outskirts of Glasgow – specific apparition directions can be found in the briefing room. I want the whole family destroyed. Do not fail me."

The last sentence was said in such a cold tone that none of the assembled could doubt their fates should the McKinnons be left alive. At a dismissive wave of the dark wizard's hand, Aries and his five compatriots stood and left the room, heading for the apparition instructions.

"Nervous?" Aries asked, bumping Regulus with his shoulder.

"Not at all," Regulus answered, his squeaky voice and hard swallow belying his words. A moment later, however, a determined look took over his face. "We'll get them, as sure as my name is Regulus Arcturus Black."

Aries was quite pleased that he only stumbled a little bit on hearing this revelation.

My, wasn't this turning into an informative night?

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: There you have it, I'm sure a lot of you have been anticipating this last scene for a while, but I hope it was a little unexpected anyway. Off I go to bed then school then work then bed again (how did I find time to write again?). Anyway, g'night!**

**PANTZ,**

**Emerson**


	23. Confessions

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary: **King Kong's got nothing on the ball drop and Auld Lang Syne.

**A/N: **HAPPY NEW YEAR!!! Here's a treat for all of you readers who've hung in this long. Ah, what the last year has brought us, neh? And what the next year shall bring! I hope to be out of town the last week of January, but I'd probably be bringing my laptop with me, and the new semester is starting, but I'm not taking so many classes, but I'm taking more upper division classes, and I'm still working part time, soo….

I don't have the slightest idea how the update schedule will be from now on.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**Chapter 23: Confessions**

Marlene liked cooking the muggle way. She hadn't known that before she married John – had, in fact, never tried muggle cooking before – but it was true nonetheless. At the moment, she was making a nice pasta to go with the bread toasting in the oven. John was asleep upstairs with their son, Thomas, blissfully unaware of his wife's nocturnal activities.

Out in the lawn, their dog barked, so Marlene turned down the heat and walked to the back door to check on him. Just as she passed the photo of the Order of the Phoenix– taken not two weeks previous - hung over the telephone, the barking stopped..

"Buster, what are you up to, you little dirtrag?" she called softly out the door, hoping not to wake the neighbors. The sight that met her eyes made her blood run chill.

Five black-cloaked figures stood in a semicircle around Buster's still body, their white masks glowing in the moon's light. As Marlene stood, frozen, four of the Death Eaters began to advance on her. The fifth took a moment to point his wand at the sky.

"_Morsmordre_."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries lowered his wand and looked at the blood on his robes. The poor dog – 'Buster', apparently – had startled him and he'd thrown a low cutting curse on instinct. If he'd been human, Buster would have gotten off with a severed leg; it was a cruel irony that the dog became Aries' first kill as a Death Eater for the sole reason that he was a dog.

The Death Eater sniffed.

"We're done –" Regulus appeared at his side and stared at him incredulously. "You're not crying!"

"Don't be stupid," Aries snapped, lighting his wand. "I'm allergic to dogs, even dead ones."

The youth nodded as if this made perfect sense, glancing edgily at Buster's corpse. Thankfully, they didn't have to wait more than a few seconds before the other three of their group returned. Wordlessly, they apparated back to the manor grounds. The walk up to the building seemed to take forever, as Aries felt each breath he took weight more and more heavily, until it felt like a weight was pressing on his chest. Suddenly, they were back in Voldemort's throne room, kneeling before him.

"Were you successful?" the Dark Lord demanded, sibilant voice making the hair on the back of Aries' neck stand on end.

"Yes, my lord," one of the other Death Eaters – Aries couldn't recognize him by voice alone – answered promptly. "They had a dog, but Hesuchazo put an end to it before it could alert the neighbors, Black and Avery took out the woman, while Lestrange and I took out the muggle and their son."

"Well done," Voldemort hissed, smirking smugly. "And my mark, did you remember it?"

The spokesman hesitated, uncertain, so Aries took a risk and spoke out of turn.

"I cast it, my lord. Just after killing the dog." It was terribly hard to talk with his chest so tight. Maybe he needed new robes.

"Very well done, my bright youth," Voldemort smiled chillingly at them. "You shall be well rewarded for your work here today. Now, return to your homes and get some rest."

They stood, bowed once more, and started to leave, but Voldemort called out once more, stopping them all in their tracks.

"Aries!"

When the Spellsmith turned to face the dark wizard, Voldemort had his wand out. Aries clamped down on his instincts and forced himself not to react as the Dark Lord opened his mouth to cast a spell.

"_Scourgify_."

The magic brushed through his robes, removing the blood and dirt and leaving Aries feeling raw.

"Thank you, my lord," he said, forcing a wry smile before bowing one final time and leaving the manor.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Charles and Sev were silent for a long time after Aries left. The redhead was torn between staying with the Slytherin at the safe-house or returning to his and Aries' flat to await his return. He quickly realized that Aries was just as likely to head straight to Fraternita Aeternus as to their flat, so he turned to Severus.

"Is it a bad thing that you weren't called too?" he asked, curious. During his days as a Death Eater, he'd only been called four times, but that was because he was at Hogwarts, and it was dangerous to go missing while under Dumbledore's eye.

"No," Sev shook his head. When he didn't immediately explain, Charles looked at him expectantly. The potions apprentice sighed. "I make potions, Aries makes spells, very rarely are we called at the same time."

Charles nodded, thoughtfully, then stood up and started rummaging through his drawers, finally pulling out three, two-foot long parchments. At the top of each he wrote "_From the Quill of:_" and then hesitated. Rather than writing names, he drew small outlines of animals. A cat on one, a snake on the next, and a ferret on the other. Smiling at his creations, the redhead attached them to the wall of the kitchen with a sticking spell.

"This way," he said, returning to Sev, "if any of us has something important to tell the others that we don't want to put in an owl, we can write it here. I would also request that you and Aries both find the time to record here when you are called by the Dark Lord."

"That would be interesting from a scientific approach," Sev agreed. "I would hypothesize that I'm called less often, because I can't leave a potion halfway done and return the next day to finish it, like Aries can with the wards..."

Sev's words were interrupted by a wide yawn. The Slytherin excused himself and returned to the home he shared with his brother. Charles was left alone to await Aries' return. The door to Fraternita Aeternus opened again just after midnight and Aries swept in, standing tall and looking as if he'd endured nothing worse than a shopping trip.

"Sev still here?" the brunet asked, looking around for his absent friend.

"No, he left an hour ago," Charles answered.

"Oh, good."

The strings of tension that had been holding the Spellsmith upright snapped and he sank to his knees, head falling to his chest. Charles rushed over to him and helped him up to the couch. This close, he could smell blood, though he guessed it wasn't Aries'.

"How many, Aries?" the redhead asked quietly, recognizing the signs of a raid.

"F-four," Aries choked out, voice thick, but eyes dry. "A witch – Marlene McKinnon – her husband, their dog, and their…their s-son."

The black-cloaked wizard was trembling so badly that Charles was amazed he had been able to return to the safe house in one piece. Gently, the redhead pushed Aries until he was lying on his stomach on the couch, then braced himself with one hand between the brunet's shoulder blades as he used a gentle _diffindo_ to open the black robes.

At the first touch of Charles' cutting charm to his skin, Aries' taut muscles relaxed, and by the time the final glyph was cauterized, the tortured Spellsmith was asleep.

Charles stood and took a deep, bracing breath. His hands were bloody and trembling, and he had broken out in a cold sweat. He hated this; he _hated_ this. Only when he was helping Aries in this way did he feel like he was standing on a razor's edge, being pulled in two directions at once. Aries left himself completely in Charles' power, and the latter had 17 years of training to be merciless and cause pain whenever possible. But whenever the urge might overtake him, the image of Dumbledore floated to his mind; slumped against the wall of the tallest Hogwarts tower, looking half dead, but still powerful enough to offer salvation.

The redhead turned on the tap in the kitchen and washed the scarlet from his hands, letting the cool water soothe his soul as well.

"You were right about me, Old Fool," he murmured fondly. "I wouldn't have killed you, and I won't hurt Aries."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Two days was all it took. Two days after his first raid and the monumentally small revelation from Reggie, Aries knew he had to tell Charles everything. Although he had long since understood that the other man wasn't going to turn back to Voldemort, Aries had not wanted to break his promise to Dumbledore in telling someone other than Ron and Hermione. However, Ron and Hermione hadn't been born yet, and he could not shoulder this burden alone.

Of course, deciding to tell Charles was one thing. Finding enough time in which he and Charles could have such a private chat was another matter all together. With the redhead's very regular schedule, and Aries' highly irregular schedule, they were rarely even in the flat at the same time, and usually one was coming when the other was going.

Eager to get this unpleasantness over and done with, Aries flooed Charles at the ministry when he had a spare moment in his commissioned spell work. When the brunet stuck his head through the floo, he spent a few moments reorienting himself; somehow he hadn't quite expected to come face-to-face with Arthur Weasley.

"Hello, how may I help you?" the soon-to-be father of seven asked pleasantly.

"Is, er, Mr. Higgins here?" Aries questioned, careful not to show too much familiarity.

"Oh, yes, of course," Arthur nodded as if he knew exactly what was going on and left the room for a moment. "Charles, the man from Dover is here."

Charles walked in, took one look at Aries' face in the fireplace, and spelled the door shut.

"What, exactly, is so important that you would risk direct contact?" the redhead demanded peevishly. Aries grinned weakly.

"What, no kiss hello?" The joke fell flat as Charles just rolled his eyes exasperatedly. "Alright, fine. I need to have a…rather lengthy private conversation with you."

The ministry worker sight and sat heavily in Arthur's abandoned chair.

"I take it this isn't a 'we're out of milk, can you go to the grocer's' kind of conversation, then?" he asked, resigned. Then, when Aries shook his head, said, "Very well. I'm off this Saturday for Summerbee Day, and I suppose I can cancel the plans I had to attend Bartlemor's Cheering Charm party."

"Thank you," Aries sighed earnestly.

"Should we meet at the safehouse?"

"No, this isn't a conversation I want Sev to overhear."

Charles nodded, wearily, and Aries decided he should leave his friend to his work. With a last nod at the other man, the Spellsmith pulled his head back through the fireplace.

Three days later, he and Charles were finally able to sit down together in privacy. Aries would have been lying – and quite obviously at that – if he'd said he wasn't nervous. The brunet was pacing back and forth in front of Charles' seat on the couch, palms sweaty and mouth dry. His year of lessons with Dumbledore raced through his mind. Taking a deep breath, Aries decided to just take the plunge.

"How much do you know about Horcruxes?" he blurted.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Charles' hands shook around his tea, his pale face completely blank.

"Seven?" he mumbled for the fourth time. "Seven pieces…"

Aries nodded solemnly.

"Six Horcruxes!" Charles gasped. "That's seriously Dark magic. Even my fa- Lucius Malfoy never attempted it. He said the making of Horcruxes was reserved for the truly mad and the truly desperate, because there was little point in living forever if you were only half yourself. But the Dark Lord…he's a lot less than half himself."

A violent shudder ran through the former Slytherin from his chest outward, making the tea slosh over the sides of his cup. Charles didn't notice.

"And to think I once bore his mark," the redhead gagged, running out of the room.

Minutes later, Charles returned, looking much more his normal self. He poured himself a second cup of tea and sipped it calmly, staring at Aries.

"So…do you have any questions?" the brunet asked awkwardly, deciding not to bring up his friend's rather undignified response.

"This is what you told me about, that last day before term started," Charles said abruptly. "You told me you had a task to complete; you were talking about the Horcruxes, weren't you."

It sounded more like an accusation than a question, but Aries nodded anyway. Charles blew out a long breath of air through his nose.

"Twenty years," he murmured, "six Horcruxes. Do you even know what or where any of them are?"

"One is the diary Lucius gave Ginny in our second year – that'll be destroyed by my younger self. Another is a ring that Dumbledore will destroy. Another is a locket; I know where Voldemort stored it, but when Dumbledore took me there sixth year, the Horcrux was already gone, but I think I know who took it, so I'm working on that one. Then there's an antique cup from the Hufflepuff line, another artifact of either Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's, and Nagini – but I can't get her for a while yet, because she still has to be alive in our fifth year at least."

Charles nodded as he took this all in.

"We don't have to worry about two, you're working on one already, and another can't be destroyed for another twenty years yet," he repeated to himself. "So that means you'll have about seventeen years after Voldemort dies to find Hufflepuff's cup and the artifact of Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's. Great, good, fantastic." The redhead stood up and carried the tea tray into the kitchen.

Aries opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off when his friend suddenly turned back and looked him in the eye, expression grave.

"Just remember what I told you when you first took that maniac's tattoo – if you get yourself killed, I will summon you from the dead just so I can kill you again."

The Spellsmith smirked, and started to reply, but was cut off again by Charles.

"And another thing – why is this something _you_ have to do anyway? Don't tell me all that rubbish about a prophecy was true."

Aries was silent, which gave Charles all the answer he needed; the redhead threw up his hands in overdramatic exasperation.

"The prophecy does exist, yes," Aries admitted, frowning, "but that's not why I'm doing this." He stood up and joined Charles in the kitchen, turning the redhead so he faced him head on. "I'm collecting the Horcruxes and destroying Voldemort because _I want to_. I'm the one in the prophecy because I'm the one who won't rest until he's dead and gone."

Charles looked him in the eye and said nothing for a long moment; searching, evaluating, considering. Finally, the former Death Eater nodded, a solemn acknowledgement that Aries would not be alone.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Months passed; as spring thawed out winter, the nights shortened, and so did Aries' time spent working for Voldemort. He had finished the wards on the manor and moved onto creating a series of emergency portkeys for the Death Eaters. The Order was informed that they would be in the form of rings, and so to incapacitate the hands if at all possible. The journeyman also went on his second raid in May, where he was forced to personally kill a man while his comrades murdered the rest of the family.

Charles refused to add any more scars except for the deaths at Aries' hand alone.

The oncoming summer also seemed to have an interesting effect on his clientele. With the warm weather came a near doubling of the number of curses, hexes, and jinxes he was hired to Pull. Without the stifling effect of winter, the war caused tension even among friends, and no one, it seemed, wanted to go to St. Mungo's with an itching hex on their rear end.

Not that Aries relished handling it either, but business was business.

Another event brought on by the summer was Reggie's graduation. Aries attended and sat one row in front of the Blacks – he could feel Bellatrix staring at his rear all throughout the ceremony – so he could cheer for the youth. Since learning of Reggie's…future rebellion, Aries had made a point of spending as much time around the boy as possible, encouraging questions and answering them frankly, attempting to subtly point out the flaws in Voldemort's – and the rest of the prejudiced pureblood's – arguments.

"Explain this to me one more time," Regulus requested, frowning in confusion as he helped Aries anchor a third layer in the library's protective wards.

"We've already gone through it twice," Aries half sighed and half growled, forcing exasperation.

"But it doesn't make sense to me yet!" exclaimed the black-haired young man. "Just once more, alright?"

"If you insist," the brunet grumbled, pulling out Voldemort's copy of Bloode Pur'tiye, an original from the 12th century – and long before the standardization of English spelling. "The first passage says '_bloode, being one of ye kruxial humours, extracts hes nature from bothe the fathyr and the mothyr. One of e'ry eicht wyrds spaken will com from the fathyr, eek one from the mothyr. If eithyr mothyr or fathyr are on-magikal, one of e'ry eicht wyrds spaken will nay have magik. Eek if bothe fathyr and mothyr are on-magikal, one of e'ry foor wyrds._' In other words, there is a higher likelihood with muggleborns of their spells simply not working.

"Now the second passage says '_As a parsel of clothe plased in a hot-house will growe damp, so any body may soke up pow'r in the aire of a magikal house. A wizard, be'en in such an house, will grow in pow'r, nay an on-magikal will eek drink up the magik, like a leech, steeling the pow'r of wizards_.' That means –"

"I know what it means!" Reggie interrupted. "It means that a wizard raised only around other wizards will have more power than a wizard raised around muggles. But that doesn't explain why the mudbloods should be kept out of our schools. Isn't it our responsibility to teach them to use what little power they have?"

"Of course it is," Aries agreed. "But there's a large difference between allowing them to learn and letting them mingle with pureblood children. Think about it, how do you like it when you've mastered a spell they're teaching in class, and some muggleborn is struggling and the teacher won't let you move on? Wouldn't it be so much better if purebloods were separated, allowed to go at their own pace? The muggleborns would be learning the same things, really, just at a speed they can handle."

He could practically see the thought springing in Regulus' head, the same thought Aries had first had when he'd read the ridiculous diatribe – 'I've never noticed a muggleborn struggling more than me'.

"But then…" Reggie began hesitantly, "but…you're very powerful, and your mother's a – well, I mean," realizing his social blunder under Aries' heavy stare, the pureblood tried to backpedal.

"If you're trying to ask how I had enough power to become a journeyman Spellsmith when my heritage is less pure than, say, James Potter's," Aries cut him off charitably, "the answer would naturally be that I was lucky. It was just Master Tobin's curiosity that led him to take me on, and he's told me already I'll never be a Master Spellsmith myself." He forced himself to give his friend a smile, though it was strained by the pang at remembering his teacher's rejection. "In a perfect society, wouldn't it be better for him to have known outright that I wouldn't have the proper talent, so he wouldn't have a useless apprentice in the world?"

Reggie looked like he was about to say something, or else his mouth had simply fallen agape in horror at Aries' calm pronouncement, but he was firmly silenced by the thunderous clap of the library door against the wall.

"Hesuchazo," the Dark Lord hissed, blood red eyes furiously slitted. "Come with me."

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: I'd like to take this time to clear something up (Do skip to the exclamation mark if you've no interest in why I spell brunet without the 'te' ending):**

**The word Brunette comes from the French word for brown hair. In the French language, adjectives commonly have a masculine and feminine form. Brunette is the feminine form, brunet is the masculine. As Aries is, in fact, male, I use the masculine form. This is deliberate and not a misspelling, so you can stop leaving me comments about it, thank you.**

**(!) If I were to start up a Livejournal community for fans of my stories, would anyone join?**

**PANTZ**

**Emerson**


	24. Progression

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary: **A monkey in a garbage hat is happier than a field of parrots in pants.

**A/N: **Well, I warned you updates would be sporadic, and sure enough. This time, though, the trouble was largely my own writer's block. I need to remember to stop resisting, stop trying to force my own ideas, and just go with the flow, because otherwise there is no flow. Anyway, here it is.

Oh, by the way, to anyone else who still insist on telling me that brunet is only spelled brunette or blond only spelled blonde, I say dictionary (dot) reference (dot) com to you.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 24: Progress  


Aries followed the dark wizard obediently to a small study, well away from the main corridors of the manor, but within easy walking distance from the library.

"Sit," Voldemort directed, taking a chair opposite the one to which he had directed Aries, behind a broad desk.

Aries had a fleeting moment of amusement as he remembered a dozen or so times he had been seated just like this with a professor while in school. Except that the Dark Lord didn't look the least bit interested in teaching.

"My lord?" Aries prompted hesitantly. "Did you have some concern?"

"I have many concerns regarding you, Aries Hesuchazo," Voldemort hissed sibilantly, leaning back. There was another long pause, then an abrupt shift in topic. "Young Mr. Black is asking questions, having doubts."

"He does not doubt, my lord," Aries hastened to reassure him, feeling a cold sweat break out on his back at the thought of what Voldemort would do to someone who doubted. "True he has questions, but he is a young man making his place in the world; questions are natural. I hoped to answer them, so that his belief in our cause may be reinforced." Still less sure, the brunet asked, "Did I do wrong, my lord?"

There was a long silence. Aries knew he had just laid his cards down on the table, and said the equivalent of 'either punish me outright or back off'. Although he had phrased the words deliberately, Aries couldn't help the chill that ran up his spine as he was left to contemplate just what form that punishment might take. Not like it took a great amount of imagination, he had seen so many punishments first hand that the memories danced threateningly at the edge of his vision.

After a long moment of letting Aries stew, Voldemort leaned back in his lush chair – Aries hesitated to call it a throne, as the Dark Lord already had one of those – and nodded, once, in grudging agreement.

"Your judgment was sound in that matter," the dangerous wizard declared. "However, there is more to why have been brought here. I marked you as my follower, Aries, and even put you in charge of setting my wards, under the impression that you were a Spellsmith of some talent, and well on your way to mastery of the craft. Was I mistaken?"

The question was quiet, a warning hiss as the snake prepares to strike.

_Was I mistaken?_ What Voldemort really meant was, _Did you lie to me?_

"Master," Aries lowered his head to appear supplicating. "I did not know when you tested me how unworthy I truly was. My…teacher," calling someone else 'master' now would mean death, "examined my skills and knowledge in January and told me then that I would never be able to gain the status I had desired. But I swear to you, Master, that all the skills I have and will ever have, I will use for you, and what you have seen with your own eyes is not a lie." The Spellsmith daringly raised his head. "My wards have held strong since the day I anchored them."

Again that long moment of silence as Aries waited to see if he had charmed the snake.

"You are a valuable wizard to have in my ranks, Aries," Voldemort mused, blood red eyes unreadable. The brunet was taken aback; he'd never heard Voldemort refer to one of his Death Eaters as anything but 'follower' or 'servant', and certainly not such an equal term as 'wizard'. He shook off his surprise as the Dark Lord continued. "If we were in front of my other followers, I would have to punish you for delaying reporting this important fact to me. However, we are in private, and you have been nothing but respectful." Voldemort seemed almost wistful for a moment. "It is a shame, though. This teacher of yours could have been taught a lesson had I known immediately that he had limited you so. Revenge is so much less satisfying when the victim is unaware of the reasons."

Aries had never been so glad of his decision to keep quiet about the confrontation with Master Tobin.

"Th-thank you, my lord!" he exclaimed, using the slight gag to make his voice sound flattered.

Voldemort smiled – a cold, thin-lipped grimace that was surely meant to look more reassuring than it did – and stood, bidding Aries to do so as well.

"You are quite correct in one matter, Aries," the Dark Lord said. "What I have seen with my own eyes is not a lie, and I have seen great potential in you. As you are now without a teacher, I will allow you to study the books in my library."

That time Aries nearly swallowed his tongue. He knew no more than Dumbledore about where Tom Riddle had been in the missing years of his history, but one of his hobbies had apparently been collecting valuable books. The Spellsmith had seen enough while warding the impressive study to know that, loyal Death Eater or no, he had just been granted a boon for which many would kill.

"Thank you master," he whispered, bowing low, disgusted to have real gratitude supplementing his acting.

_Maybe I can find something in there about the Horcruxes,_ he thought.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-  
Aries fairly sequestered himself in the library over the next month. He had claimed Regulus as an official assistant, giving the young Black scion some protection from the Dark Lord's influence as he studied. The spy made sure that most of the books he used pertained, at least in part, to the crafting of new spells, so that his 'recreational' reading would be easier to overlook. In truth, he barely glanced at the spellwork books, paying far closer attention to any mentions of soul magic or Dark magic that required murder.

_1001 Uses for Unwilling Victims_ by Mordred Senshumar was frankly nauseating, but did at least mention Horcruxes. Aries told Regulus to search it for every reference to the hierarchy of blood.

_My Ghost, My Life_ was completely unhelpful, as it was an automortography written by the ghost of Acher Aballon about his two hundred years as a spirit. It contained absolutely no scientific information on the effects of a life of murder on the human soul.

_Safekeeping for Hazardous Wizards_ had a whole chapter on Horcruxes, but it had scant mention of process or results, containing more a history of wizards who were suspected to have used them. The only line that made the book worth anything at all was at the very end of the chapter: "Horcruxes make a problematic wizard quite hard to get rid of."

Aries was starting to get frustrated, and he knew Regulus was confused, though the junior Death Eater obediently – and quietly – kept up with his tasks. Finally, after two long months of digging information on Horcruxes out of obscure texts, Reggie started to ask the right questions. The boy proved he had absorbed his readings when he disturbed the silence of a 'research' session in late September.

"The Dark Lord claims immortality, doesn't he?"

Aries breathed a sigh of relief and began the last leg of his journey.

The hardest part turned out to be leading Regulus to the discovery of Voldemort's heritage. Even after a trip to Little Hangleton to visit the old Gaunt house – last known residence of Slytherin's descendants – and a casual mention of the Riddle Mansion down the way, plus hesitant musings about a paternal tale of a Tom Riddle at Hogwarts. Even after all that, Regulus couldn't seem to reconcile a half-blood Tom Riddle with the supposedly pureblood Voldemort.

Stupid Pureblood mentality was ingrained deeper than most tree roots.

"It's obvious, isn't it?" Reggie commented by the fire one November night. "This Tom Riddle fellow was born out of wedlock from the Slytherin line, and Voldemort got rid of him to preserve the pureblood traditions."

Aries hit his head repeatedly against the wall after he'd returned to his and Charles' flat. He couldn't correct the young man's wild assumptions without coming into suspicion himself. But how on Earth was he to get direct evidence that Tom Riddle and Voldemort were one and the same. Voldemort would never leave evidence like that lying around – Aries himself wouldn't know they were the same person if the memory of the young Tom Riddle hadn't told him so.

_That's it!_ Aries shot to his feet, a gleam in his eye. _Tomorrow, I go see Lucius about that diary._

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Severus relished his tea. As uncomfortable as Malfoy Manor itself might be, there wasn't a better cup of tea in all the British Isles. Though, really, he hoped no one who knew him from school caught him drinking out of the floral porcelain that Narcissa and Lucius stocked in their Nuptial Wing tea room.

_"Hopefully_," Lucius had privately confided in him in the second month of their acquaintance. "_When the inevitable happens, I'll inherit my father's set._"

Abraxas Malfoy's personal tea set was dragon themed, and if there was one thing Severus had learned about Lucius after working with him for over half a year, it was that Lucius was quite fond of dragons.

When Voldemort had assigned Severus to aid Lucius in his political advances at the ministry, Severus had despaired at the sheer waste of his talents playing secretary to a comfortable aristocrat. He had rarely been so mistaken. Lucius was anything but comfortable with the wealth he already had, and required much more of Severus than secretarial work. The Potions expert was kept quite busy making Befuddlement Drafts and vials of Subtle Seduction, and had learned more about politics in return than he had ever dreamed to know as a simple half-blood.

"You're awfully quiet today, Severus," Lucius drawled. "Nothing too heavy on your mind, I hope."

"No more than usual." Sev let his cup rest against his knee. "Have you learned anything new about Crouch?"

Lucius smirked broadly and opened his mouth to speak when the door opened abruptly, thumping against the wall. Aries swept in, followed by a bemused and apologetic Narcissa.

"Lucius dear, you have a visitor," she said weakly.

"Hello Malfoy," Aries greeted his host boisterously. "And Severus! Didn't expect to see you here. How are you doing?"

Severus watched Aries bounce about with amusement. He knew, and he knew that he was alone in his knowledge, that Aries was rather anxious about something. No matter how Slytherin he might be, when he was stressed, the Gryffindor in Aries put a halt to any slow, subtle movement. Sev fully intended to make Aries aware of this fact the next time they dined together.

"Mr. Hesuchazo," Lucius acknowledged, his mouth twisting as if tasting something unpalatable. "To what do I owe this…pleasure?"

"Business, I'm afraid. Purely business." Aries flopped down into one of the Malfoys' elegant chairs. "I don't mean to interrupt, but I need to ask you about a book. Should I come back at a better time?" Lucius opened his mouth, likely to tell him to do just that, but Aries cut him off. "Of course, I do need the book today, and the Dark Lord is being most patient already, but I'm sure he'd understand that you were in the middle of tea."

Severus bit back an amused snort at the furious look on Lucius' face. Aries was knowingly breaking almost every rule of etiquette in the pureblood book, and had basically stated that, if Lucius called him on it, it would be Lucius' rear at risk.

"Of course I have time," the blond ground out through clenched teeth, "please follow me to my library. Narcissa, if you wouldn't mind keeping Severus company until my return?"

"It would be my pleasure," Narcissa replied with obvious relief.

Severus knew he would be sure to tell Aries later that the well-bred lady preferred his company to the brunet's. For now, though, he would simply sit back and enjoy his fine tea and Narcissa's fine company.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries followed Lucius through the old wood corridors of Malfoy manor, feeling like he was balanced on a tightrope. He had already successfully walked a few steps – Lucius hadn't called his bluff with the threat of the Dark Lord – but there were many more left. If Lucius ever, even in passing, mentioned that Aires had asked about this particular book, there was very little chance Voldemort would maintain his trust in his 'faithful' Spellsmith.

Then there was Regulus. The boy was young yet, and related to Sirius, and might well decide that his suddenly acquired bit of truth ought to be spread to the world, which would lead to utter and complete disaster. Or he could decide that Aries was trying to lead him astray – which he was, and Regulus wasn't stupid – and inform the Dark Lord of the treachery himself.

Well, he wasn't going to back up now.

Lucius' library was up a flight of stairs and around three and a half corners from the tea room, making Aries wonder if the manor wasn't more Wizardspace than real space. His professional side started calculating the charges for crafting a home that size in Wizardspace, until the Spellsmith shook off the distraction and concentrated on the battle before him. He just hoped Lucius had forgotten the incident with the Atlas Sangue and the fire spell.

"So, Hesuchazo," Lucius sneered, "what of my family's private collection will you be pilfering and defiling today?"

Apparently Lucius had a good memory.

"Don't worry, nothing with a price in worldly goods," Aries assured him blandly. "Our Lord has advised me to research certain spells placed on an old diary. He said you would know which one…?"

For a moment, Lucius seemed on the verge of pouting. His expression said he was worried that he had perhaps fallen out of Voldemort's favor and the journal, his great boon from the Dark Lord, was being taken away. Aries knew he could use that, if he played his cards right.

"It will, of course, be in my possession only a matter of days," he said. "Our lord was quite clear that you were charged with its safekeeping."

Lucius paused, considering his words, and some of the tension left his stance.

"Our Lord is most generous," he said. "Please, Mr. Hesuchazo, wait here and I shall retrieve it for you."

Aries nodded and averted his eyes, watching discretely as Lucius walked around one of the bookshelves. Small noises of rummaging reached the spy's ears – a book shifting, the almost-silent creak of a well-oiled hinge, and the soft thump of leather against skin.

Lucius reappeared moments later, pulling the familiar diary out of his wide sleeves as if it had always been there.

"You _will_ take care of this, won't you?" Lucius demanded, holding it just out of reach. Aries restrained himself from rolling his eyes. Barely.

"You have my word of honor: this book will be returned to you in a timely manner and in one piece."

The blond, satisfied, handed over the book and quickly ushered his guest out the door. Well, Aries would have to wait for another, more private time to ask Severus about his tea.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The Spellsmith didn't see Reggie again for three more days as he was sent to work on crafting a curse for melting a person's feet. It would only have taken two days, but Aries needed an extra day to create a counter-curse. The whole time, he kept the journal hidden in the locked compartment of his school trunk, not even hinting to Charles that he had it; the redhead would be furious with him for bringing something with a bit of Voldemort's soul into their flat.

Fortunately, that meant he would have two or three more days free before Voldemort asked for anything else.

Unfortunately, he would still have to work fast so he could get the diary back to Lucius before the blond Slytherin took it in his head to ask the Dark Lord himself.

So Aries crafted the situation carefully. He arrived at Voldemort's library almost a full hour before Regulus was set to arrive, and secluded himself in the deepest, darkest corner, as far away as possible from any books Aries knew the younger man had looked at before. The brunet opened the book to the proper date, October 15, and pulled the stopper out of a new bottle of ink. Dipping a newly sharpened quill into the pot and shifting the angle of his hand – who knew how similar his handwriting was to when he was twelve? – the Spellsmith wrote the first thing that came to mind.

_My name is Aries Hesuchazo._

As expected, the dense paper absorbed the ink and a spidery reply reemerged.

_Hello Aries, my name is Tom Riddle._

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Regulus was quite happy to learn he was supposed to come into work with Aries that day. His parents had vowed to cover his every expense as long as he 'maintained the family honor', so he had o outside job to take up his time when he wasn't needed by the young Spellsmith. Reggie didn't care what Aries' teacher had said, he though the brunet was a brilliant Spellsmith and should be a master already by every right. But then, he was rather biased; as long as he was working for Aries, he didn't have to go on near so many raids.

He was somewhat disconcerted to enter the vast collection of books and not see his senior Death Eater right away, reading feverishly in his usual spot.

"Aries?" he called out, loud as he dared – which wasn't very loud, after spending seven years around Madam Pince.

The distinctive thump of a book being slammed shut led Regulus to a dim corner, lit only by a single candle. Aries' face was just visible, peering owlishly into the darkness.

"Oh, Reggie, it's you!" the Spellsmith's face relaxed, then brightened with a flush of excitement. "You have to see this!"

"What is it?" Reggie asked, moving around to sit at Aries' table so he could peer at the small, plain-looking journal.

"I found Tom Riddle's diary!" the brunet exclaimed, opening the book.

Regulus blinked down at the empty pages. Aries was fairly eccentric – even as the pureblooded group went – but even he shouldn't be quite that excited about a diary that was never used.

"Watch, I've been talking to him for a bit now, and he told me something fantastic!"

The junior Death Eater watched as his senior and friend took a quill and wrote in the diary.

_Tom, I have a friend with me who believes you were killed by Voldemort. Would you be so kind as to enlighten him to the truth of your greatness?_

Regulus couldn't help the chill that ran down his spine as the ink, rather than drying, seeped into the paper and disappeared. Then, which made the young man want to shrink away in fright at the sheer display of magical prowess, the ink returned in a flowing script.

_Killed by Voldemort? Hardly. You see, my full name is Tom Marvolo Riddle._ The letters of the name started to inch around the page until they spelled something completely different. _I am Lord Voldemort._

So there was no illegitimate son of the Slytherin line, or rather there was, and he was never killed to keep the blood pure. Was, in fact, ruling them right now. The Death Eaters were led by a half-blood bastard.

Regulus watched, detached, as the light of the candle turned to one side and dimmed into darkness, while the floor came up to cushion his head.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: This chapter goes out with a special thanks to nljfs who gave me the boost I needed to finish the last four pages in a week.**

**I made and LJ Community and a Yahoo Group for this fic, and both their links will be posted in my author's bio momentarily**

**PANTZ,**

**Emerson**


	25. The Locket

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary:** If a monkey eats fermented grapes, does that make him a vine swinger?

**A/N:** Woohooo! Finally got the next chapter up. And, best yet, finals are almost over and I'm not taking summer courses, so I'll only have to work around, well, work.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 25: The Locket

Aries looked on in shock as the young Black fainted dead away. Perhaps he had underestimated the impact his little revelation would have. He jotted a quick note to Riddle, so as not to alienate a potentially useful resource, and closed the book, rushing over to his friend. A quick _enervate _woke the black-haired young man, though it did nothing for the headache caused by crashing to the floor.

"Ohh," Regulus groaned. "What bludger hit me?"

"No bludger, just the floor," Aries told him, cracking a relieved smile. He helped his friend sit up and cast a general health-improving spell on Reggie's head.

The young Black started a sigh of relief, but it ended long and remorseful. Reggie stared down at his hands for a while, and Aries kept silent, wanting to let his friend think things through.

"That's it then," he said finally. "The Dark Lord is powerful, we've all seen that; but he's a half-blood, raised without a wizard or witch in sight. His very power discounts all those theories you read me Aries – they're wrong. This whole stupid war is wrong! It's not some noble battle to preserve the strength of magic, it's some personal grudge of _Tom Riddle_." Regulus spat on the ground after speaking the name, making Aries' eyebrows shoot up in surprise at his vehemence.

"Calm down now, Reggie," he said, patting his friend on the shoulder. "It's not good to get so worked up."

"Worked up?" Reggie laughed incredulously. "I'm far beyond 'worked up', Aries. I killed for him; I killed women, children…people lying asleep in their beds, whose only crime was that they knew better than the rest of us. I can't – I _won't_ – let that rest. If the Dark –"

Regulus finally remembered where they were, and to whom he was speaking, and cut himself off, looking around warily. Aries smiled faintly – had he been a loyal Death Eater, or had he not erected a silencing ward, Reggie would have signed his death warrant with his first sentence; clamming up now would do him no good.

"We shouldn't talk about this here," Aries agreed. "Come to my place tomorrow and I'll let you know a few truths."

Reggie looked up at him, startled, a little fear showing in his eyes. Aries raised an eyebrow and gave him a look that said, "You know me."

"Alright, I'll be there," the youth relented.

Aries helped Regulus off the floor, and gave him an honest smile.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Severus was interrupted from his sleep by the flexing of the wards to allow apparition. Only two other people had been blood-keyed into the wards, so Severus wasn't worried and tried to return to his dreams. Unfortunately, it appeared fate was against him as, mere moments later, the sound of off-key singing filled Fraternita Aeternus. Severus tried plugging his ears, pulling the quilt over his head, and even tried casting a silencing charm at the door, but the singing was too loud and the flat's wards absorbed his attempted spell.

Scowling, Severus pulled a dressing gown over his cotton trousers and shuffled tiredly into the kitchen, where he found Aries and a half-empty bottle of firewhiskey. Although a small shot glass lay nearby, it was clear both from the lack of moisture in the cup and the brunet's death grip on the neck of the bottle that this was not a moderated nightcap.

"Fi'ty five bottles of beer on the wall, fi'ty five bottlesh of beer," Aries slurred. "Take one down," he took another gulp of whiskey, "passh it aroun', fi'ty four bottlesh of beer on the wall."

"Aries, what the devil are you doing?" Sev growled.

The brunet looked up, eyes unfocused and face flushed.

"'lo Sever–… Shever–… Sev. Isn't life grand?"

The Slytherin wrinkled his impressive nose at Aries' powerfully alcoholic breath.

"What are you going on about?" he wondered.

"Tomorrow," Aries explained with a smile so bright it looked like a grimace, "I'm gonna puch my life in…in shome'un else's hands. Gonna tell'm a shecret 'at could get me kill'd."

Sev knew he should brush off Aries' ramblings as drunken and incoherent, but his blood ran chill at the thought. Aries, too, was a Death Eater of high standing, and likely knew quite a few secrets that could get him killed.

"What have you got yourself into, Aries?" he murmured. However, as drunk as he was, Aries was not deaf.

"Can't tell you, iss a shecret," the brunet sloshed some whiskey onto the counter as he spoke.

"But you're telling this other person?" Sev demanded, starting to get angry. "You'll put your life on the line, trust them but not me?"

"'Course!" Aries grinned again. "Knew you'd un'erstand, Shev."

Severus felt a spark of resentment flare into life. Aries had been awfully closed mouthed the last time they spoke; how long had the other man been keeping secrets from him? And it would be secrets, there was never just one when a person started to hold back. But Severus was a Slytherin, he understood having and keeping secrets. He even understood getting drunk on the eve of risking your life.

But he could not understand, nor would he try, calling someone a friend, and then going behind their back and telling secrets to others.

"Fine," he breathed, almost too angry to speak. "Then I suppose you won't need me around anymore. Good luck with your hangover, Hesuchazo."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries woke with a splitting headache and a cottony mouth; those were expected, though, and he knew a large amount of water would help out immensely. However, he could not explain the shadows of a keen regret that lingered in the back of his mind. True, waking up regretting the night before was a common effect of alcohol consumption, but he hadn't gone outside of the safe house, so he shouldn't have found anyone to insult too badly.

Unable to shake the worry that this was more than just 'oops I redecorated the carpet' regret, Aries dug out one of the memory containers he used for Order information. Memories covered with a drunken haze wouldn't be perfectly clear seen this way, but would be much more distinct than what he could recover himself. He watched with growing horror the conversation with Severus, smacking himself firmly on the forehead when he saw how the other man's face darkened at his callous words.

Well, there was only one way to fix this, and two hands were hardly worse than one.

Pulling himself sluggishly out of the pensieve, Aries went over to the writing table. A message this urgent couldn't be left to the off-chance that Sev would arrive at the Safe House in time to read it, so he'd have to owl it, which meant an early morning trip to the Diagon post office.

Maybe he could get a hangover cure from the apothecary first.

With a heavy sigh, Aries carefully crafted a letter to Severus, inviting him to the Safe House that night. He also wrote a note to Charles, figuring it was safer to have two people if obliviation became necessary.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Eight o'clock that night, just after the sun had set, Sev arrived at the Safe House. He had seriously debated whether or not to come, but in the end, curiosity had won over pride. The Slytherin graduate was the first to arrive, and he carefully took in the empty flat around him, sitting in the most comfortable armchair. A potions journal he had left on the coffee table the other night caught his eye, and he opened it to an article about research on a potion to subdue werewolves.

The story was interesting, although it sounded from the ingredients as though the maker originally wanted a potion to kill werewolves. Silver and aconite were the active ingredients, and the maker was even calling the potion "Wolfsbane". Severus smirked at the thought of feeding it to Lupin. It would never happen, though; he and the werewolf ought never to cross paths again, unless they were pointing wands at each other.

By the time Sev heard anyone else enter the flat, he had finished that article and moved on to a historical piece about the discovery of the uses of dragon's blood. The constant mention of Dumbledore was not enthralling enough to prevent interruption, and the potions student gratefully set the journal down and rose to greet Aries.

"Charles, what are you doing here?" he blurted.

"The same thing you are, I suppose," the redhead drawled. "Waiting for Aries to arrive so I can witness his latest half-baked scheme."

"You don't approve, I take it?" Sev asked wryly.

Charles flopped gracefully into his favorite, dark green armchair and leveled a long look at Severus.

"Frankly, I think that Aries should keep his secret a secret, and that telling it here today is likely, if not definitely, going to get him killed."

The Slytherin's nostrils flared at the implied distrust.

"I could have said the same thing the night he told you he was a Death Eater," he said coolly. "But Aries said that we are friends and shouldn't have any secrets between us."

"Yes, well, Aries has his own definition of friendship," Charles sneered, though his eyes looked troubled. "One day he'll trust the wrong person, say the wrong thing, and he'll end up dead. Just because you won't betray him doesn't mean this other person won't, or the next."

The truth of that statement felt like a physical blow to Severus, and he wilted back into his seat. Aries was dangerously reckless with the truth, he couldn't deny that. His mind flew back to the night previous, where he had found the brunet up to his eyebrows in alcohol, and couldn't hold back a small smirk.

"He is not as reckless as we think," he quietly denied. "He probably has been planning this revelation for weeks, constantly testing this other person to see if they will betray him."

Charles openly snorted at that. "If I thought Aries was smart enough to test someone that thoroughly without them realizing, then I wouldn't be nearly so worried," he sulked.

Severus didn't have a chance to respond as the door to the flat opened then. He and Charles rose together, eager to learn the identity of the mysterious confidant.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Regulus arrived at the small muggle café no later than fifteen minutes before his scheduled meeting with Aries. Yet, as per usual, Aries had beaten him there and was casually sipping tea and reading some sort of muggle publication. The young Black's stomach twisted at the sight of food; he hadn't been able to eat since the revelation and didn't feel any inclination to start now.

"Hello, Reggie," Aries greeted him brightly, interrupting his thoughts. "And how are you this fine day?"

"Nervous as all Hades, and you should know it," Regulus scolded. "This is my life on the line here."

Aries waved a dismissive hand, making Reggie want to curse him.

"Don't worry, neither of our lives is on the line where I'm taking you," the brunet claimed. Regulus wasn't sure he believed him, but when the waitress brought him a cup of tea, he did take a few sips.

Aries waited until there was no sign of Regulus drinking more to fold up his paper and stand, leaving a stack of muggle paper money on the table.

"Follow me, and keep your voice down, I don't want us followed."

With this last cryptic statement, Aries started down the street. Regulus hesitated only a moment longer, then hurried to catch up. If he trusted nothing else in his life right now, he trusted that Aries would not get him killed, so he could certainly throw his lot in with worse people.

The brunet led him along two bustling blocks of muggle businesses, then ducked quickly into an alley and darted down two more interconnecting alleys. Aries really didn't want them followed, wherever they were going. Finally, just as Regulus was begin to get a bit breathless from the determined pace, Aries stopped in front of a building. It was an ordinary building, the same color and size as both of the buildings to either side, yet Aries was holding the door open as if it were the minister's mansion. The inside was well lit with icy, buzzing muggle lights, revealing plain beige carpet and a few uninspired portraits that didn't even move.

It was like some kind of bizarre alternate dimension where the life had been sucked out of everything. Regulus shuddered.

"Don't tell me you _live_ here," he gasped, unable to imagine his boisterous friend in such cold surroundings.

"Of course not," Aries smiled as if amused. "I share a flat near Diagon. Now, come along, and remember to stay quiet."

Regulus pursed his lips together at the reminder, though he was still unsure about the connection between being quiet and being followed – anyone close enough to hear them would surely be close enough to see them as well.

He tagged along behind Aries who took him to a small alcove in the hallway where two imposing metal doors with no handles stood motionless. A small pad with two buttons sat in the wall next to the doors and Aries pressed the one on top. From behind the door something made rumbling and rattling noises, and Regulus began to feel worried – what kind of creature would need such monstrous doors to hold it in? Suddenly, an invisible bell chimed and the doors opened; Reggie cringed, but saw nothing but a small, windowless room inside, a pad with many more buttons the only decoration.

If he didn't know better, he'd think it was a lift.

When the doors opened again to a completely different hallway, Reggie paled.

"That _was _a lift," he stammered. "I though you said this is a muggle building."

"It is," Aries responded unconcernedly. "It's not a magical lift, it's run by electricity, just like most muggle inventions."

"What do you mean, _muggle_ inventions?" Regulus demanded. Lifts were magical, everyone knew that; they were basically just boxes with controlled levitation charms.

"Didn't you know?" Aries raised an amused eyebrow at him. "Muggles invented most of the things wizards use every day; we just adapted them to run off magic. Lifts, ovens, cars, even the WWN didn't show up until a good decade after muggle radio programmes."

Regulus took that in silently as he trailed after the brunet down the hall. He had already accepted that most of Voldemort's ideas about pureblood superiority were wrong, but to think that muggles were not inferior, were not disabled, but were, in fact, key attributers to wizard life…He wasn't sure if he could wrap his mind around that just now.

The sound of a door latch startled Regulus, and he forced these new thoughts to the back of his mind. This was it, Aries was opening the door to a new fate, and Regulus would meet it head on – not as a Black, not as a pureblood scion, not even as a wizard, but as a man of integrity who would not live a lie once he knew it was a lie.

He took a shaky step forward into the flat and stopped short.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Sev's jaw didn't drop, but it was a very near thing.

"Black?" he gawked.

"Snape?" Black responded, equally startled.

"Oh, you know each other," Aries interrupted. "Good."

Severus snapped his glare to his Gryffindor friend. Aries knew full well how he felt about Sirius Black, and here he was, bringing in the irascible infant trapped in a man's body's little brother.

"Calm down, Sev," Aries cautioned, proving he was not totally without intelligence. "They may look alike, but they aren't the same at all."

The underlying warning was clear: Aries had invited Regulus first, and Severus second, and if one of them had to go, it would not be Regulus.

"We shall see," Severus murmured, sitting down, but not lessening his glare.

"Right, then," Aries clapped his hands and smiled obliviously. "Now that we're all here. Regulus, this is Charles Higgins; Charles, this is Regulus Black. Charles and Severus are very good friends of mine. We're all here to get some things out in the open. Before we start, can I get anyone anything – tea, biscuits, calming draughts?"

His proposition was met with frosty stares from three sides, so, with a roll of his eyes, Aries sat.

Over the next hour, Aries explained to those who shared the mark that he was not as loyal as he appeared to be. The tale was slow and arduous, and the look of betrayal that flashed from Severus' eyes before he cleared his face made Aries' insides twist.

"So that is it, then," the Slytherin snapped, glaring hatefully. "Very well." He stood and made for the door, but Charles' wand was faster with three locking charms before Sev could even reach the kitchen.

"Severus," the redhead said firmly. "Remember why we are here. Remember what this set of rooms represents: the war is not bigger than our friendship. Just as I didn't turn you in when Aries told me you had joined, he has been spying for Dumbledore for over a year now, and you and Regulus are both still free. And you will both walk out of here free, even if you don't choose to come back."

"I have your word?" Severus demanded, back to them.

"You have my word," Aries pledged, reaching for his wand to seal the pledge. "I swear by –" He was cut off by the sound of the door slamming.

Severus was gone.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Regulus left soon after Snape. He was quite dissatisfied with Voldemort, true enough, but Dumbledore's benevolent manipulation and disregard for wizarding traditions still grated. True, Dumbledore was doing more than anyone at the moment to bring the Dark Lord down, and sometimes one had to join forces with unexpected allies to defeat a common foe…

But by Merlin! Regulus had had enough of taking orders from wizards he didn't respect. Maybe he couldn't defeat Voldemort, but he could find out a way to make false the evil wizard's claim to immortality. Those awful spellbooks Aries had made him read certainly gave him a few ideas.

Regulus only knew of two ways for a wizard to live forever. One was through the legendary Philosopher's Stone. However, that only kept one from dying of old age – it didn't protect from injury or deadly curse – and it required complete dependence on a piece of rock, which was not Voldemort's style at all. The Dark Lord never depended on anyone, even his followers knew that a task from their leader was a favor to them (or a death sentence if they did it wrong) and not a favor to Voldemort.

That left only one option that would produce the desired result. It was magic so Dark that, before reading Voldemort's books, Regulus had only heard it mentioned in awed whispers by his family, who claimed to be the Darkest of Dark. A way to tear a wizard's soul in two and hide a piece of it away, where no one could find and dispose of it. A way to tie a wizard to the land of the living so inexorably that death could not touch him.

Regulus would bet his inheritance that Voldemort had made a Horcrux.

This required some thought. Naturally a Horcrux would be some object of great importance and symbolic value, and Voldemort liked to claim Slytherin heritage…Was there some Slytherin heirloom remaining that the Dark Lord might have gotten hold of?

And while he was researching that, he would also have to look into possible hiding places. He knew, from his research into Tom Riddle, the location of the orphanage that raised the young boy Voldemort. That was as good a starting point as any.

The Slytherin graduate still wasn't comfortable talking to Aries, so rather than enlist the Spellsmith's help in snooping through the Dark Lord's library, he decided to use the resources of his own family. The Black's had a library that was almost as old as the family itself, and his mother had always had an infatuation with all things Slytherin. Regulus managed to get her alone – an rather tipsy – Christmas night, and knew he'd get no better opportunity to grill her.

"Happy Christmas, Mother," he dipped his head politely.

"Oh, yes, Happy Christmas Regulus," she returned, flushed face and bright eyes making her look somewhat mad. "How are your extracurricular activities?"

"Just wonderful, Mother," he lied. "I feel so honored to know that I'm a part of bringing our family into this bright new world."

His mother smiled fondly at him, making Regulus want to sick up.

"Actually, Mother, I wondered if you might be willing to help with a…project of mine."

"Anything for the cause, my son."

To make the request more enticing, Regulus glanced around, as though afraid ministry spies might overhear.

"You know my lord is the heir of Slytherin. I was wondering if you knew of any heirlooms from the founder that He might be interested in."

"Ah, a noble quest worthy of the Black name. I'm afraid I can't be of much help, however. The only Slytherin heirloom of which I had any knowledge was a locket that fell into the hands of one Hepzibah Smith – descended of Hufflepuff, of all things! – but when her over aged house elf accidentally did her in…well, no one quite knows what happened to the locket after that."

Regulus sighed for effect, though inwardly he was rejoicing – this was exactly the kind of lead he had been hoping for, and he was quite certain that it was no house elf that killed Hepzibah Smith.

"Well, thank you anyway, Mother," he expressed a disappointed gratitude, just in case she was paying attention. It seemed he needn't have bothered.

"It just goes to show that your Aunt Elladora had the right of it," Walburga ranted. "House elves absolutely must be beheaded before they become senile. That way no harm comes to the family reputation, and the elf can be remembered with its dignity intact. What little of it they're broth with, that is." She cackled at her own joke, took another delicate swig of Champaign, and fell asleep.

Regulus left her there; he had plans to make.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: Whelp, there you have it folks. Er…I really don't have anything to say at the moment. Please direct any questions to the review button below. Or, better yet, to the Yahoo! or LiveJournal communities.**

**PANTZ,**

**Emerson**


	26. Witness

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary:** A monkey's uncle can't fit in my trousers!

**A/N:** So yeah, regularupdateschedulewhatsthat? Never heard of it heh heh…

Can't say much besides sorry, at this point. I don't know why the writer's block was so bad, but to beat it, I had to write the scene I _wanted_ to write (several months in the future of the story) and then go back and fill in from there. It seems to have worked, 10,000 words in one month isn't a personal best but it's not bad either. Hope you guys like it!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 26: Witness

Aries felt he was going to get an ulcer if things continued the way they were. Severus and Regulus had both stopped speaking to him after he had revealed himself to be a spy. Mind, he wasn't dead yet, so he didn't think either had turned him in, but that left his only social contacts to be Voldemort and Charles. While neither was terribly bad company these days – the Dark Lord was ecstatic with each new victory, and Charles, well, anyone would be better company than Voldemort – Aries well and truly missed his other friends, and was especially worried by Regulus' silence.

According to the black family tapestry, Regulus would die in the coming year. Aries didn't know if the younger man was already on the trail of the Horcrux or not, didn't know if he was even considering standing actively against Voldemort. But time would sort those out; mostly, Aries just wanted to have a few more good times with his friend before…before the end. Too many people had died before he got the chance to say goodbye, and he would not turn Regulus into another scar on his back, another regret.

Severus' silence was easy to interpret. The Slytherin graduate had joined the Dark Lord in the first place out of hatred for an abusive muggle father. For him to learn that Aries was a spy so suddenly…Well, it might take a while for Sev to realize that his Gryffindor friend wasn't siding with Tobias Snape.

So, that meant Aries had to somehow convince Reggie to talk to him again. Preferably sooner than later.

Owls all seemed to be returning his letters unopened, so Aries figured that Regulus must be using anti-tracking spells to keep himself from being found. After all, owls didn't usually let a person not take their letter – one of the hazards of having mail carriers with talons. A trip to the Black home under the pretext of an invitation to apply for a ministry position proved fruitless, and rather annoying, as he had to listen to Mrs. Black's voice, which was somehow more aggravating in real life than in a screaming portrait.

"Just give him time," Charles attempted to soothe him afterward as he paced frenetically around the flat. "You know he's not going to turn you in. He probably just didn't want to end up involved with Dumbledore."

"What?" Aries stopped pacing in shock. "Why would I get him involved with Dumbledore? Dumbledore didn't know about him in our time, so he can't possibly find out about him now."

"Yes, but _Regulus_ doesn't know that. All Regulus knows is that you work for Dumbledore."

"But…but," Aries stammered, face going pale. "But he's going to _die_! Do you understand that, he's going to die, and I can't get him to talk to me, and I'm never going to see him again and then he'll be _dead_."

Charles sighed and poured his friend a cup of tea.

"Just get some sleep and calm down, then you'll find something you can do," he said encouragingly, inwardly rolling his eyes in frustration.

"Sleep?" Aries raised an eyebrow as he gulped the hot tea straight down. "You think I'm at all tired…right…ooh, you son of a tro-yawn-oll…"

Aries' last thought as he passed out on the couch was that he really needed to learn what a sleeping potion in tea smelled like.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

1979 came to a close in the soft silence of snow. Christmas had come and gone, Aries recalled as he brooded morosely over his books, and he'd had no one to spend it with. Charles had been 'invited' – see 'required' – to attend a Yule gathering of the Order, and Severus and Regulus were both still out of contact. It was in this lonely, brooding frame of mind, then, that Aries did something very foolish.

Voldemort had not been to his library in weeks. Aries, with his connection to the wards, knew that the dark wizard had been spending quite a bit of time in the potions laboratory of late. Thus it came as a surprise when Aries was joined, one late night near the middle of December, by the Dark Lord himself. Wondering what proper courtesy would demand, the brunet decided to simply continue reading unless Voldemort suggested otherwise. He had little doubt that the Dark Lord was not here for a quiet read.

"I have a task," the dangerous wizard spoke into the silence after many long minutes.

"My lord?" Aries ventured, marking his place and turning to face the other man. "What do you require of me?"

"No, no," Voldemort waved one hand impatiently. "I require a house elf; a test subject."

And a desperate, half-formed plan leapt into mind.

"Regulus Black has a house elf," the words were out before he had even decided to say them. And the moment they left his lips, the moment Voldemort's red eyes narrowed in thought, he wished he could take them back.

But it was too late.

Aries never did get to see Regulus again; not a week after his short, disastrous conversation with the Dark Lord, the youngest Black disappeared.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Severus was a cautious man. Although his anger with Aries would not allow him to speak to the brunet, he never stopped watching him, and he attempted to keep an eye on Regulus Black as well. Who knew what the brother of such an idiot would do with such sensitive information. But after months had passed, and Aries still lived, and Severus still lived – he continued to look over his shoulder, certain he would find one of Dumbledore's lot on his tail – even _his_ cautious mind relaxed.

Voldemort kept him busy through November and well into December working on a potion, a very specific potion. One that would make a person relive their worst memories, distorted and amplified ten fold, and – and this was a request directly from the Dark Lord's lips – that would leave the drinker desperately thirsty.

In theory, the potion should not have been difficult. However, the normal dehydrating ingredients reacted poorly with the lethifold skin used to induce nightmares, and it had taken two dozen substitutions and half a dozen explosions to get it right. The moment he had a successful batch, Voldemort had ordered him on a New Year vacation, taken the whole vat and left.

On January tenth, a great pounding sounded at his door. The wind outside was bitter cold, so Severus grabbed a cloak and hurriedly put it on as the person outside became more and more insistent. Finally, the old cloth knotted at his throat, Sev pulled open the door to see Aries, dressed in barely more than a nightshirt, frantically wringing his reddened fingers.

"What the devil, get in here you maniac!" Sev's eyes went wide and he dragged his frozen friend out of the weather and into the warm flat, grateful that his brother was not home to see this.

As soon as Aries was settled in front of the fireplace, a thick blanket sitting on his lap where Sev had dropped it, unwilling to actually wrap it around the other man's shoulders, the brunet started talking.

"I killed him."

Severus felt as if he had swallowed ice. He and Aries had bother killed men, in the name of war, but this sounded different, not the result of a battle or raid.

"Killed who, what are you talking about?" he demanded, angry at being so worried.

"Regulus, he's dead, I know it," Aries choked out. Then, in such a soft, hoarse voice Severus had to strain to hear, "I sent him to his death."

Warring thoughts raced through Sev's mind, as uncontrolled as a nest of ants.

_Is this it, has he decided it's too dangerous to let those who know his secret live? How did he do it? Did he turn Black over to Dumbledore? To the Ministry? Did he sabotage a raid? Arrange a poisoning?_

With a loud curse Sev got to his feet and shouted:

"START AT THE BEGINNING!"

Aries jolted so hard that the blanket fell, unnoticed, on the floor.

"It had been months, Sev, _months_," Aries groaned. "Neither of you would talk to me, would answer my owls. I…I was afraid that one of you might die without another word to me, so I volunteered Regulus for a mission. Just a small one, the Dark Lord only needed a house elf, and Regulus had that Kreacher, and I figured when he came to the manor I could corner him, at least get him to look at me, but he never came to the manor. Voldemort went to him, took his house elf, and now…now he's gone!"  
"The house elf?" Severus questioned, confused.

"_REGULUS!_" Aries almost screamed. "Regulus is gone, he's dead, and it's all my fault, and I didn't want it to be you too because you're one of the only friends I have here and I'm a selfish prat who doesn't want to go it alone."

After this lengthy proclamation, the silence that fell between them seemed heavier than the weight of grief that bore down on the Spellsmith.

"Well," Severus attempted. "As long as we're both agreed that you're a selfish prat."

A weak, taut smile from Aries broke the tension, and that was that.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Over the next few months, Aries and Sev kept in closer contact, meeting every few days at the safe house. There, they recounted anything interesting that had happened, or else shared concerns over the future. Aries revealed the incident with Master Tobin that had led to him never achieving master status, despite having been a Journeyman for almost two years now. Sev, in turn, shared that he had often wondered if he could develop spells for a living, but had decided against it after a poor performance on his Charms OWL. Quite often, they simple sat in silence, reading in the same room simply for the purpose of having company.

But sometimes, only rarely, Sev would let slip a Death Eater plan that Aries hadn't heard about. The Slytherin liked to pretend these were just accidents, but they both knew that Severus Snape would never slip a secret on accident if he meant to keep it. Aries wondered – and hoped – if his friend was beginning to see the truth about Voldemort.

One such night in June, Severus revealed something that made Aries' heart jump.

"He wishes me to seek employment," the black-haired young man grimaced. They both knew who 'he' was.

"What?" Aries exclaimed. "Didn't you just get your potions mastery a few months ago?"

Sev nodded, cheering slightly at the memory of his recent great achievement. He quickly sobered, however.

"He wishes me to apply for the Defense post at Hogwarts, to prevent Dumbledore's poisoning of young minds."

It took all of Aries' willpower not to let his jaw drop or his lips slip into a grin. This meant the prophecy would come soon, and close on its heals Harry Potter's birth! The idea of a second him in the world excited Aries more and more each time he considered it. A little belatedly, he realized he was supposed to be responding to Severus' worries, not barely suppressing a grin.

"That's not a dangerous assignment, is it?" he covered his hesitation with a quick cough. "Planted right under Dumbledore's nose."

"I expect that is why he wants _me_ there," Severus responded. "The Dark Lord is aware that I can protect my mind from intrusion. Though I doubt that will offer much protection where Dumbledore is concerned; the old coot has other ways of knowing things, and he will not allow a Death Eater to teach."

This quiet admission carried a lot of weight. Severus was certain he would fail, and failure was a one-time occurrence for those in Voldemort's ranks.

"I think you're overestimating Dumbledore," Aries snorted. "The man is very trusting, prone to believing the best in everyone." Sev narrowed his eyes and gave his friend a sharp look.

"So why do you support him?" he demanded in a low, almost venomous voice.

Refusing to be baited, Aries merely shrugged and got up to refill the teapot. In the kitchen, however, the Gryffindor's fingers began to tremble so badly he was afraid of spilling tea everywhere and he gripped the countertop to steady himself.

The next few months would be absolutely critical, he knew. Dumbledore had said to trust Severus Snape, and as Aries had done so, he had found an invaluable, loyal, devious and courageous friend. But he did not think he could manage to stay friends with Sev if the other man turned out to be deceiving Dumbledore, if all his supposed remorse were false. Taking a deep, steadying breath, the Spellsmith poured cold tea from the kettle to the pot, heated it with a spell, and turned back to face his most unlikely companion.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"ARIES!" Sev's voice rang through the safe house. "ARIES, WAKE UP! ARE YOU HERE, ARIES?"

After the death of Regulus Black, Aries had taken to sleeping at the Safe House more often, and Sev dearly hoped the brunet had chosen to this night, because he wasn't entirely sure he could remember the address to Aries and Charles' flat in his current state. He seemed to be having an inordinate amount of luck, however, because the next moment Aries stumbled groggily in, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"What in the name of Merlin's saggy y-fronts is the problem, Sev?" the Spellsmith grumbled grouchily.

"I've just, oh bloody," Sev stammered, "you have no idea what I just…I mean, I listened, but I didn't mean…"

Awake now, Aries pushed Sev down onto the couch and gripped his shoulder tight.

"Calm down, Sev," he intoned. "You're at the Safe House, no one can find you here."

Severus nodded, giving himself time to absorb the words, and let his heart slow down. He could still feel the innkeeper's handprints on his arms, still see Dumbledore's piercing blue gaze staring straight through him. Occlumency was nothing against that man.

"I received a tip," he began, shakily at first but growing steadier, "that Dumbledore would be interviewing someone for the Divination post tonight at the Hog's Head. I went ahead and reserved a room, intending to listen in and get a hold of Dumbledore's interviewing style, find out what he looks for in teachers. But I swear, I never expected…I was listening, and things were going…poorly. The applicant had a much higher opinion of herself than her experience warranted, I thought, and Dumbledore seemed to agree, he was about to show her out, I think, when…"

"When what?" Aries prodded, an indecipherable look on his face.

"When she started to prophesy." Sev swallowed hard, then recited, "_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will_."

"Will what?" Aries prodded again, voice strangely flat.

"I don't know," Severus whispered harshly. "The innkeeper discovered me listening at the door and started shouting then, so I couldn't hear the rest, and he grabbed me and opened the door and _told_ Dumbledore I was listening." The terrifying memory came upon him again, and the Slytherin gripped his lanky hair with one hand.

"Ah," Aries deadpanned.

"'Ah'? 'AH'?" Sev shouted, bolting off the couch. "Don't you understand? I have half a prophecy, one that predicts the Dark Lord's downfall, and worse yet Dumbledore knows I have it! Dumbledore! The leader of the most powerful resistance to our victory!"

The room fell deathly quiet. Sev looked at Aries – truly _looked_ at him, for probably the first time that night – and saw his friend almost glaring at him, eyes dark and lips pressed together tightly. The words _our victory_ echoed silently between them as Severus remembered that it would not be _their_ victory; one of them would lose.

"Aries," Severus paused, unsure what to say next. In a moment, the storm passed from the Spellsmith's face.

"No, I apologize," Aries conceded, closing his eyes and shaking his head. "I forgot my own promise – political views are to be left outside the flat; in here, all that matters is friendship. So, you know what you need to do.

"There may be a spy within Dumbledore's group, and Dumbledore may tell them that he was witness to a prophecy overheard by a Death Eater. You absolutely must, if you want to survive, tell Voldemort all you have heard tonight. Do not tell him you told me first, don't even tell him you did not come straight to him. As far as the Dark Lord is to know, you went directly from the Hog's Head to the manor to give your report."

Everything Aries was saying made sense, perfect sense, but Severus couldn't make himself want to go. He couldn't help but suspect that Voldemort was one to kill the messenger, so to speak.

Aries seemed to sense his reticence – either that, or his face looked more terrified than he'd intended. The Spellsmith joined him in standing, staring at his eyes, and nodded decisively. While Severus watched, bemused, Aries pulled out a small knife and slashed his own palm. Blood welled up almost immediately, spilling over onto the carpet before Aries cupped his hand and let the crimson pool there.

"Come here," Aries ordered, dragging a shocked Sev to the window, where they could see the half-full moon.

"Algiz…and Gebo, I think," the brunet muttered, dipping one finger in the blood and using it to draw on Severus' forehead. The feel of damp, surprisingly cold fingers on his skin startled Sev into stillness. "Yes, that should do it. _Protego!_"

A shiver of magic flowed down from the symbols on Sev's forehead to the tips of his fingers and toes. When the Slytherin reached up to touch the symbols on his head, he encountered nothing but his own eyebrows. Not a trace of his friend's blood remained.

"That will give you some protection against a large number of malevolent spells," Aries explained. "I can't do anything about a killing curse, but you'll be able to survive most anything else."

Sev nodded gravely, greatly moved and, though he hated to admit it, comforted by such a willing sacrifice. The hand still bled, but slowly, and Aries was already putting pressure on it with one sleeve of his robe.

"It will heal," Severus declared, feeling like himself again.

Aries nodded.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

July dragged by with the same tedium Aries remembered of long summers spent awaiting the next year at Hogwarts. So desperate was he for news that the Spellsmith often talked himself into risky ventures to the house of the Potters in his cat form, hoping for news. He left immediately if Remus, Peter, or Sirius showed up, certain that Remus would discover him, Peter would rat him out – pun very much intended – or Sirius would attempt to eat him.

Dumbledore also visited on occasion, and Aries made absolutely certain to depart as quickly and unobtrusively as possible whenever this happened. The last thing he needed was for the headmaster to think he was taking an undue interest in the Potter baby; and he just _knew_ that Dumbledore was aware of his cat form.

James and Lily, though, were often happy to see him, and left him saucers of milk that he pretended to drink from when they were looking.

"It's Cloak, I'm telling you!" James would insist happily. Lily always shoved him in reply.

"Not that daft theory again!" she would laugh. "James, no one from Hogwarts lives nearby, it can't possibly be the same cat."

Lily's arguments were convincing enough that Aries didn't worry about being found out, but he made sure to never get too close, no matter how often they tried to coax him inside. All he needed was to be within earshot, and cat ears were very good.

July 29th, Lily started having trouble moving around the house, especially going up and down the stairs. The toilet flushed abnormally often.

July 30th, an emergency call to a healer turned out to be a false alarm.

Finally, on the morning of July 31st, crashing breakfast dishes and a hearty groan of pain announced the onset of labor. The healer was called back and the house was sealed to prevent unsanitary guests. The various noises of pain from inside were regular, like the beating of a heart or the ticking of a very slow clock. Not all were from Lily, James seemed to be in an occasional bit of pain as well.

Aries paced restlessly on the fence separating the Potter's cottage from the road into town.

The sun beat down hot on his black fur, but he ignored it. Children, out playing, were called in for supper, but Aries ignored that too. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when the time traveler felt it.

Like a second heart beat, alongside his own, pulling at him, threatening to tear his chest apart. The pain grew and grew until, with a great SNAP, Aries felt himself fall onto the grass in a very human body, the cries of a newborn child ringing through the night.

Adrenaline pumping fast, Aries apparated to the first place that came to mind. When the Orange-lit streets of Privet Drive popped into view, he felt like hitting himself. The brunet attempted to transform back into a cat, just in case anyone looked out their window, but it didn't work. The transformation usually felt like an exchange of energy with something outside himself, but now all that energy seemed to have disappeared, and Aries thought he knew where it had gone.

He cursed under his breath, scooting toward the shadows.

"Why didn't Charles mention this?" he wondered. "The Malfoys had him a month ago!"

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Charles, it turned out, hadn't had any such experience. However, he had some good theories – once he had stopped laughing, that is – about why he hadn't had any problems, but Aries had. The redhead seemed to think it was quite simple.

"For starters," he chuckled, "I wasn't stupid enough to try and witness my own birth! When Draco Malfoy was born, I was halfway across Britain checking out a hexed wristwatch, not sitting on the front stoop."

"What about my Minimus Animagi form, then?" Aries countered. "Why have I lost that, and not you?"

"Well…" Charles gave this a bit more thought. "You completed the transformation before we were brought here, right?" Aries nodded. "Then I suppose you could say that your cat form belongs to Harry Potter, while my form belongs to Charles Higgins III."

Aries put his hands up, confused.

"Wait, you're saying that baby Harry Potter can transform into a cat?"

"No! Merlin, didn't you do any deep study on animagi when you were trying to get your form?" Charles growled in exasperation. "Look, the spell for the Minimus Animagi spell, that original long spell in Egyptian, that creates a sphere of energy in Extradimensional Time-Space and ties it to us. When we transform, our bodies switch places with that energy; we then inhabit an animal form, while our body's energy resides in EDTS. What I think happened is that your sphere of animagus energy was originally tied to Harry Potter, so when Harry Potter was born, the energy switched to him. However, without the full spell, his body doesn't have the ability to switch places with that energy. He'll probably never realize he has it."

The redhead had started pacing up and down in the sitting room of their flat, accenting his explanation with hand gestures; he finished with a dismissive wave of his hand. Aries nodded, the theory made sense, but something else was confusing him now.

"How on Earth do you know all that?"

"It was a point of curiosity when we were preparing for the transformation in 7th year," Charles replied snootily. "If you ever researched anything properly, you'd probably have managed the full transformation by now."

The brunet looked away, unable to retort properly.

"What, did I strike a nerve?" Charles sneered. "You're a Spellsmith, it's not like the door's closed, you know."

"It's not that," Aries denied, voice low. "I don't want it, all right?"

Neither one of them believed that. Charles sat next to Aries on the couch.

"What do you mean, Aries?" he demanded almost gently.

"Just what I said, I don't want it, alright? I'm fine with turning into a cat, I wouldn't even mind a hypogriff or something like that. But you don't understand. I did my research. I read every book I could find on Animagi until my eyes felt like they'd crusted over. My animagus form isn't some naturally found hybrid; I have Chimeric Animagia Syndrome because of how my link with Voldemort twisted my magic." He could tell from Charles' blank face that the other man wasn't following. "Look, when Voldemort gave me my scar, our Magicks merged – that's why I can speak Parseltongue. But when a person's magic is twisted or warped or added to, it affect the animagus form. Who knows what my animagus form might have been originally, now it's some freakish thing with a lion's head, a cobra for a tail, dragon feet and big feathery wings."

"So, let me get this straight," Charles smirked in confused amusement. "You _don't_ want to turn into something that can fly and has two mouths, one of which is poisonous?"

Aries threw up his hands in defeat; a former Slytherin would never understand not wanting power simply because of the source from which it had sprung. But the Gryffindor did not want to turn into an animal that was part Voldemort.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

In the first year after joining the Death Eaters, Aries had been sent on raid after raid. He believed Voldemort to be testing him, seeing if he had any aptitude for leadership or battle, and so consciously showed none. It hadn't take more than a few months to be relegated to a permanent position as Spellsmith, wards-keeper, and researcher. Not a position Aries minded, by half, but also not one with terrible lots of information-gathering opportunities. As such, there were often times when Aries knew no more than what Voldemort announced to the Inner Circle as a whole.

In August of 1980, Voldemort announced that Lily and James Potter were top priority.

In October, he announced that someone very close to the Potters had been brought to their side. He referred to the traitor only as 'Wormtail'.

Aries kept a sharp eye for rats wherever he went, especially within the manor. If Voldemort was not revealing Pettigrew's name or animagus form, then it was rather likely he was using the rat to spy on his own followers as well. Not that Aries truly expected to be under suspicion, but caution was never a bad idea.

Severus had seemed strangely unsettled since then. His eyes had a wild look whenever he was left alone to think too long. This was actually starting to worry Aries rather a lot, and he desperately wanted to corner his friend where they could talk about it, but Sev always seemed to have somewhere else to be. The Spellsmith was beginning to suspect the Slytherin of avoiding him.

And that just would not do.

It took some preparation, but Aries managed to trigger the wards of the Safe House so that, as soon as Sev entered, Aries would be alerted and a mild compulsion charm would 'help' the other man stay put. He had to anchor the charm to a crystal paperweight Charles had received as a Christmas present from Mr. Weasley; normally, he would be able to hold such a simple charm himself, even while away from the Safe House performing other spells, but ever since his birth his magic had been unstable, and consistently weaker, and he didn't want to chance losing his grip.

The alert didn't come until early in November, proving either that Sev was busier than usual, or that he was very determined to avoid Aries. In either case, the Spellsmith was sure he wouldn't have another chance for a rather long time, so he apparated to the Safe House immediately, leaving a shocked seamstress holding a new cloak at Madam Malkin's. Sev was so startled by Aries' sudden arrival that he looked on the verge of apparating away, so Aries dropped the blood exceptions to the anti-apparition wards. He would have to find time to key Charles back in, but there were more important things right now.

"We need to talk," Aries said firmly, consciously placing himself between Sev and the door. The Slytherin looked a little frightened, but covered it up with fierce anger.

"How dare you!" he roared. "How dare you try to keep me here against my will! Are you arresting me, is that what this is?"

Aries let the other man shout, the nonsense accusations washing over and beyond him like so much dust.

"I just want to know what the matter is," he said calmly when Sev had finished, or paused for breath, "and if there's anything I can do."

Sev paced the length of the room, eyes roving over everything but Aries. Finally, he sat in his favorite armchair, shoulders slouched, eyes hidden by shoulder-length hair.

"When I heard the prophecy," he admitted gravely, "I thought it would mean we would have time. The person mentioned obviously hadn't been born yet, so I thought that would mean at least seventeen years of careful preparation before a one-on-one duel."

"That's not how the Dark Lord works," Aries shook his head ruefully that Severus, of all people, would turn out to be naive. The other man nodded, having learned his lesson.

"He intends to kill the one from the prophecy, and his whole family, within a year," Sev breathed. "The Potter child will barely be able to walk, let alone be any danger."

The hair on Aries' neck itched like he was being lied to, but he could tell that something about Voldemort deciding to attack the Potters was upsetting Sev greatly. If it wasn't Harry, like he was intimating, and it certainly wasn't James – even Gilderoy Lockhart wouldn't be daft enough to think that – then that only left…

Hold on, did Snape hold a secret candle for his _Mum_? Aries couldn't fathom it, especially since they'd seemed so distant in school. Lily hadn't looked twice at Sev, as far as he'd seen. Then again, she was always defending Slytherins…

"Go to Dumbledore," the words were out before Aries could remember forming them. Sev looked at him in disbelief. "The Dark Lord will not grant you this boon; you know Lily would die before allowing her child to be killed, so go to Dumbledore and ensure the protection of the whole family." Sev looked about to protest, but Aries quelled him with a look. "It is the only way."

Severus nodded in defeat.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Over the next several months, the only information Aries got about Sev's health was through Charles, who saw the other man at regular Order meetings. Aries laughed, sometimes, at the complicated triangle their group had become: Aries reported to the Order through Charles, who also listened to Sev's reports and reported back to Aries. Both agreed, however, that Voldemort was being remarkably single-minded in his pursuit of the Potters. Using the information from his spy, Voldemort had attempted to lay several traps, luring James and Lily out on Order business and attacking their home. However, these were all foiled by Aries and Sev and the Potter's propensity for switching babysitters every time they were both out.

One attack in April was so vicious that James and Lily's small cottage near Ottery St. Catchpole was destroyed and the family moved to Hogwarts for a season. Dumbledore was happy enough to put them up in a set of teachers' quarters that had remained empty. Fewer and fewer teachers were willing to work at such a dangerous school, so empty quarters of suitable size for a family were not hard to find. Charles reported that the couple had originally been planning to move into James' parents' house in Godric's Hollow, but Dumbledore had changed their mind, citing the heightened danger Mr. and Mrs. Potter would be in, versus the interwoven protections of Hogwarts' wards.

It seemed that, for once, Dumbledore was more right than he would have liked.

Aries was called unexpectedly early one Monday morning in May. The weather was annoyingly fair, and did nothing to ease his confusion. The Spellsmith had become quite good at predicting when he would be called – through a combination of keeping extraordinarily up to date with current events, having foreknowledge of some events, and having a fairly regular work schedule creating spells for the Dark Lord. An unexpected call meant he had no idea what situation he was walking into, and that made him nervous. Voldemort's expression of delight only made Aries' stomach churn faster.

"My friends, my most loyal," the Dark Lord began grandly, gesturing at the small group gathered. Aries noted with some surprise that only he, Severus, Malfoy, and the Lestranges had been called. "You are, no doubt, wondering why I have called you here today. I know where the Potters are hiding, their exact address, and today we will not lure them out, we will not wait for their convenience, but will strike when they least expect it. My sneaky spy has discovered that the Potters are hiding in Godric's Hollow, at their ancestral hovel. We will storm the house tonight, and make prisoners of everyone there.

"And I will kill the Potter boy."

A sickening cheer rang out from those gathered, and Aries managed to swallow his disgust at their bloodthirstiness in time to join in. He saw Severus was managing alright, thinking of the Potters safely hidden at Hogwarts, but Aries couldn't help but worry about the elder Potters, his grandparents.

Godric's Hollow was a popular little village, known to most every wizarding family in Britain, so there were no side-along apparitions as the group left on their mission. Even Aries had gone visiting once, but had left when he realized that nothing that tied this place to his parents would exist yet. The mercenaries arrived, fittingly enough, in the graveyard beside the old church. Rather than taking the well-worn paths out of the cemetery and back to the street, Voldemort led them deeper into the forest, walking slowly, silently, and filled with confidence.

Aries looked at the headstones to give himself time to think. Hundreds of generations of wizarding history lay buried here, he had heard, and he couldn't help being curious even as he walked over their graves. A few familiar names caught his eye: Abbot, Bagshot, even a couple Dumbledores. Some names seemed familiar even though he could not recall immediately from where, such as Ignotus Peverell, whose headstone included an engraving of some strange symbol that looked like a cat's eye inside a triangle.

By the time the group had come up behind the first row of cottages, Aries still hadn't thought of a way to warn the Potters. He couldn't exactly send a patronus on ahead – a glowing stag would be a bit noticeable – and he couldn't transform into a cat and run in front of the Death Eaters because, well, he couldn't transform. His invisibility cloak was in the future, as was Hedwig. Cold sweat beaded on the back of his neck as Aries realized that he truly had no options if he wanted to live to see Voldemort defeated.

The two-story cottage loomed in front of them, cheery lighting spilled from the windows into the night, stopping just before the feet of the Dark Lord. In silence, the command was given, and the group immediately fell into their accustomed roles.

The Lestranges moved to surround the property and began dismantling the wards. Aries took a position between the house and the street and put up barriers against sound, muggles, and escape for anyone not carrying the mark. Severus and Lucius stood at Voldemort's side, ready to attack.

In a moment, Aries had the familiar set of wards standing firm. Another moment, and the Potters' defensive wards had fallen. Shouts of alarm erupted from the house as the Voldemort blew apart the door, Lucius, Severus, and the Lestranges at his back. Aries was left outside supporting the barriers, helpless.

At five on two, the fight was over almost before it had begun. Silence fell, then a scream of rage as the Dark Lord discovered what Aries and Sev had known all along, that James, Lily, and little baby Harry were not there.

With his back to the house, Aries risked a small smile for a small triumph.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The funeral for Geoffrey and Athena Potter was astoundingly well attended; almost as many mourners as there would be for Dumbledore, although there were no merpeople or centaurs in Godric's Hollow. Aries watched the crowd, disillusioned, from behind the trees.

He knew it was foolish. He knew it was dangerous. He knew he could easily be uncovered and attacked with so many Order members around. But he couldn't let his grandparents go, having never even seen their faces.

Organ music floated out from the church, providing the background for the usual meaningless speeches. Aries didn't need a ministry orator to tell him his grandparents were good and kind, the sheer number of people who would miss them said that louder and clearer than words.

A quiet agony grew somewhere behind the time traveler's ribs as the music stopped and the crowd lined up for a last view of the caskets. There were too many people – Aries couldn't possibly sneak in undiscovered, and at the end of the line were the levitators who would close the caskets for the last time. A flash of bright blue caught his eye and Aries shifted and saw Dumbledore, dressed in staid robes compared to his normal fare, watching him.

The headmaster's gaze, indirect as it was, pierced him, holding the young man in place. Aries didn't realize that he was holding his breath until his vision started to grey. A single, shuddering gasp and Dumbledore's eyes locked onto the brunet's, then shifted away – toward the line of mourners – and back. Aries nodded, accepting the implied invitation.

Neither he nor the headmaster spoke as the line slowly moved ahead. The masses of people around them never seemed to look close enough to realize the shadow behind the venerable old man was not entirely Dumbledore's. After almost a full hour of waiting and milling around, Aries and Dumbledore were at the caskets.

Aries looked down into his grandparents' faces. Athena was beautiful, fine boned, but strong. Geoffrey was stockier, with a firm jaw apparent even in the softness of eternal sleep. Neither looked very old, probably no more than fifty, which was barely middle aged by wizard standards. Aries felt his back throb, mourning their loss.

"Two very great people," Dumbledore murmured. "They chose their final battle."

Aries had long given up deciphering the headmaster's cryptic comments, but he couldn't help thinking, as the memory of that battle flashed in his mind, that the Potters hadn't been given much choice at all.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The Order meeting room seemed poorly lit, though that might have been because the sheer number of people there couldn't all be illuminated by the one small chandelier. Charles stood at the far corner of the table from Dumbledore, behind the seated Elphias Doge. The Potters sat in the honored seats at the headmaster's right, while Severus lurked in the shadows behind the old man's left shoulder.

Harry coughed and fidgeted in his mother's arms.

"We can't keep running," Lily declared. "The stress of moving every few days is keeping Harry from eating as well as he should, and I'm afraid he's getting sick. The nights are just too cold this far north."

"What do you propose?" Snape drawled. "If you stay still, the Dark Lord _will_ catch you."

"Now listen, Snape–" James started to rise, but Dumbledore held up a hand to stop him.

"That is enough," the tired voice still managed to sound like a reprimand. "If Lily and James feel it that ceasing their flight, then we will accommodate them. There is an archaic spell known as the Fidelius Charm that might do the trick. With the charm, we can hide the secret of the Potters' location inside a person; only those to whom the Secret Keeper willingly reveals the secret will be able to find them. No one else would be able to come up with their location either by accident or treachery."

"That sounds perfect, Albus!" James exclaimed, relieved. The dim light accented dark smudges under his eyes. "When can it be cast?"

"Now, now, no need to rush these things," Dumbledore chuckled, eyes twinkling. Charles rolled his own. "The spell takes a few days to prepare, so please consider carefully where you will hide, and who will keep your secret. I would, of course, be willing, but the decision is ultimately up to you."

James nodded, gratefully, tiredly, and rose to leave. The rest of the Order followed suit – the meeting had gone on long enough already.

At the very next meeting, just three dyas later, the pair had their place and person all picked out. September was long past and Samhain was just a few weeks away – a date to which, Dumbledore seemed to believe, Voldemort would attempt to attribute undue significance. Time was of the essence, so the headmaster didn't put much effort into dissuading Lily and James from using Sirius Black as their Secret Keeper or from performing the spell without witnesses in the privacy of their chosen hiding place.

However, when the Order members were given slips of paper with the address of the Potter home in Godric's Hollow, Charles couldn't help but think how little the handwriting resembled Sirius'. He crumpled his paper in one hand and silently said his goodbyes.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries had learned his lesson from attempting to witness his birth. The night of October 31, 1981, he was not even attempting to think of his parents. He had known the moment the Fidelius had been performed, as he had never before been unable to recall the location of his own parents' death. However, he was still fairly certain that London would put him a safe distance away.

Charles had been unusually quiet the last few days, and had left to pull an all-nighter at the ministry. The brunet remembered well that Charles had at least seemed to be friends with most of the Marauders back at school; he gave the former Slytherin his privacy.

_Tonight is a good night for it to happen_, Aries thought to himself, looking out at the stars and the faint Aurora Borealis to the north. He hadn't known, when he was in his own time, just how bad the war was going for the light when Voldemort learned of the prophecy. If the dark wizard hadn't suddenly become obsessed with a newborn baby, he might have overthrown the ministry within a few months. From a different perspective, Aries could clearly see that Severus overhearing the prophecy had likely saved hundreds of lives and, eventually, this half of the war.

But it still hurt.

The ages-old wound in his heart felt like it was gaping open today, his palms were clammy, and as the clock struck midnight, his forehead burst open.

Aries' scream rebounded a thousand times off the walls. Blood dripped steadily onto the floor, where he suddenly found himself kneeling, and his glamour had fallen. The physical pain stopped, suddenly, and the screams were replaced by a helpless keening that erupted from the depths of his soul.

"No no no no no," Aries repeated, mouth frozen open in a grimace as he pressed his sweaty forehead to the cool wood floor. He wrapped his arms around himself and continued chanting the denial until he fell asleep.

The next day dawned hesitantly, as if afraid to believe the great tidings that first light would bring. Aries' head throbbed and he was drenched in a cold sweat, but all that remained of the night before were vague memories and a fallen glamour.

Staggering slightly, the Spellsmith dragged himself to the bathroom so he could reapply the glamour in front of the mirror. He froze.

_Harry Potter_ was staring back at him. Merlin, he'd forgotten what his own face looked like. In awe, Aries stared at the messy black hair, green eyes, and pale complexion. Finally, unwillingly, his eyes were drawn to his lightning-bolt scar, and then down, to his pale arm. The mark was barely visible, just a shadow of red lines showing where it must have burned last night, when he'd been too far gone to notice.

With a sigh of sheer exhaustion, Aries closed his eyes and sealed his new face over the old.

All day, Aries did not leave the apartment and Charles did not return. Wizards and witches were clearly visible on the streets below, scampering around regardless of the concerned looks the muggles threw after them. Part of Aries was happy for them, happy that Voldemort had been banished for a decade, but he was just too tired to celebrate with them. And he doubted he'd be welcomed.

The Spellsmith passed the day in his own way, jotting down a few notes about the occurrence with the scar in a journal after dinner, locking it carefully away once night fell, when he moved back to the window. Fireworks exploded in the sky as Aries watched, mesmerized. Amazing, he thought, that people could be so happy all over Britain, while a little boy had just lost his parents and godfather, and was about to be shipped off for ten years in a cupboard. In every wizarding pub, revelers raised their glasses to the Boy-Who-Lived, not caring that, perhaps, it might have been kinder had he not.

Three sharp raps at the flat door brought Aries out of his brooding. He moved away from the bedroom window, into the front sitting room, just in time to witness the door crashing in. Four Aurors burst into the room and Aries took a step back, automatically reaching for his wand.

That was all it took.

Two heavy bodies slammed into him, one pinning his arms to the floor, the other landing on his legs with a large amount of force and a bad angle. Aries felt something snap in his hip and he bit his lip to stifle a pained cry. Bright red light filled his vision for a moment, before everything went black.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Tobin Kon sneezed as his rummaging disturbed a cloud of dust. After Guildmaster Heinrich had vanished a month previous, Tobin had been nominated as the new Guildmaster, despite his relative youth. It was a great honor, certainly no more than he deserved, but he hadn't counted on old Jim being such a pack-rat. The office he was set to inherit was so full of useless debris that Tobin hadn't heard any news of the outside world in the full week since he'd started clearing and sorting.

However, some sort of ruckus was happening out on the street and the dust really was getting insufferable…Waving a wand to open the window and let the office air out, Tobin stretched out his back and headed outside. And, apparently, into a madhouse.

Witches and wizards were running up and down the street, laughing and dancing and drinking right out in public. The book shop across the road seemed to have retained some sense of peace, so Tobin sought refuge and answers within its walls. The answers, however, came as he looked at the newspaper displayed proudly in the front window.

**Dark Lord Defeated – Potter Boy Survives Killing Curse**

_The terrifying days are over, peace has again graced Britain with her presence, and all thanks to a one-year old boy. On October 31, late at night, You-Know-Who descended on the home of Lily and James Potter in Godric's Hollow. As he has so many times before, that fearsome dark wizard murdered the husband and wife, and then turned on their infant son, Harry. However, when You-Know-Who cast the deadly spell, an explosion rocked the cottage and, when the dust lifted, there was no sign of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and little Harry Potter still lived, unharmed save for a single wound, in the shape of a lightning bolt, on his forehead._

Tobin nearly swallowed his tongue. 'Harry Potter', 'lighting bolt scar', the words resounded in his head, arranging and rearranging in ways that made less and less sense. Deciding firmly that he needed to know what had happened in the two days since then, Tobin marched into the bookstore and bought a copy of the Daily Prophet to take to the back of the store and read.

The front page was cluttered with more articles on Harry Potter, claiming him to be a descendant of Godric Gryffindor or Merlin himself – both of which Tobin knew to be patently untrue after his research into the Potter family tree. Counter-rumors were offered that only a more powerful dark wizard than even Voldemort could have turned a killing curse back on its caster, but that was even more ridiculous – how could a one-year-old be a dark wizard?

Inside the newspaper were more helpful articles, outlining recent events such as the capture of Sirius Black for mass murder and the release of Lucius Malfoy. On the twelfth page was a list of captured suspected Death Eaters, well over sixty names cluttered the space, some linked haphazardly with specific crimes. One name jumped out almost immediately.

_Aries Hesuchazo_

There was no crime listed, which meant no trial in the immediate future, perhaps no trial at all. Tobin felt his gut clench – he knew he shouldn't have had that week-old scone – and he quickly left the bookstore.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

It took another full week to arrange a visit to Azkaban. The wizarding prison – normally an impregnable fortress – was under even heavier security to prevent the surge of new prisoners from escaping. However, between the smothering atmosphere and the twelve miles of North Sea that lay between any captive and freedom, Tobin doubted that such measures as an auror guard stationed at intervals around the island, let alone the probity-probe gauntlet at the entrance, were really that great a deterrent.

Finally, wand and hat confiscated, he was allowed into the main office of the warden. The head of Azkaban Prison was a wasted, likely once-portly man with a very long moustache and no beard. Tobin barely managed to keep from wrinkling his nose.

"A Mister Kon, is it?" Warden Umberson grunted in a deep, tired voice.

"Master Kon, if you please, warden," Tobin corrected as respectfully as he could manage, but Umberson waved away the new information like a pesky insect.

"You're here to see who ag'in?"

"I am here to visit Aries Hesuchazo. The Daily Prophet claimed he was being held here on suspicion of being a Death Eater."

"Ain't no suspicion, Mister Kon," Umberson grunted, summoning a folder from the file cabinet next to his desk. "Hesuchazo there, he has the mark and all. Hardly even put up a fight, he did."

"Hardly?" Tobin asked, one eyebrow raising involuntarily.

"Ar, well, the Aurors get a bit jumpy in times like these. Ah, here we go: Hesuchazo, Aries – prisoner AX125690, cell D235. Ivers'll take you."

Tobin was returned his wand and hat and one of the guards – presumably Ivers, the Guildmaster had no way of knowing – led the way at a swift pace down a dank, dark hallway to cell block D.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries hadn't moved in three days except to keep himself alive by taking sips of the rusty water he was provided. His hip protested with every breath and shift in weight, and the dementors sucked out any will to overcome the pain and do something useful.

Not that there was anything useful to be done in Azkaban.

Somehow, in all his planning for the future, Aries hadn't quite managed to predict that he might end up in Azkaban for his crimes. And how was he to get out? Dumbledore was under strict orders to keep his involvement a secret, so he wasn't likely to be busted out like Sev had been. Acquittal was absolutely out of the question, as he was guilty of every crime of which he had so far been accused. His guilt was scrawled across his back for the world to see, if they only knew how to look.

A stony, measured beat filled Aries' ears, so soft at first that he almost mistook it for his own heartbeat. However, as the dementors retreated, he recognized the sound as approaching footsteps. Intrigued at the very thought of visitors, the brunet raised his head, catching his breath as his leg spasmed.

Two men entered his field of vision, one of them wore the familiar guard uniform. Aries didn't waste time looking at him. The feeble torchlight that deepened the shadows within the cells caught on the clasp of the visitor's cloak. Aries blinked; surely he hadn't seen right.

"_Lumos Macero,_" the man incanted, causing a soft light to bloom from his wand tip.

"Master Tobin," Aries gasped, hoarse voice barely audible over the sudden clank of the lock.

He entered the cell in the same manner he had long ago entered Aries' study room, as though what he were about to face could be no worse than a lazy student.

"Despicable," the Spellsmith uttered, and Aries flinched, then gasped in pain again. "Absolutely deplorable." Master Tobin turned to the guard. "Get a healer here, now!"

Aries and the guard both looked at the man in shock and disbelief.

"Are you deaf, Mr. Ivers?" Tobin sighed short-temperedly. "I told you to go fetch a healer for Mr. Hesuchazo."

"Er…Begging your pardon, Guildmaster, sir," Ivers stammered. "First rule of Azkaban is never leave a prisoner while the door's unlocked."

"Then lock me in with him, you simpleton," ordered Master Tobin. "He's hardly in any fit state to attack, wandless and crippled."

"Er…right," Ivers hesitated one more moment, then seemed to decide that Tobin could handle himself well enough and locked the door, leaving the cell block at a jog.

Master Tobin sniffed dismissively and turned to examine the rest of the cell. Aries flushed as his teacher's discerning eye traveled over his water bucket, loo bucket, and wooden slab suspended from the wall that was meant to serve as a bed. The injured young man had yet to lever himself onto it, though he had once gotten close enough to lean against the side.

"Not exactly a first class inn," the older wizard muttered. Aries hung his head.

"I'm sorry, Master Tobin," he whispered.

"As well you should be," the older Spellsmith reprimanded. "Imagine, leaving like that and never even telling me about Harry Potter or that lighting bolt scar. Absolute foolishness; and here I thought I'd taught you something."

It took Aries a moment to wrap his mind around the fact that this, from a man like Tobin Kon, counted as an apology. A comfortable silence fell between them for the next few minutes, until pounding footsteps announced the arrival of the healer. Aries sat perfectly still, hands displayed above his head and the guard's wand trained on him, as the graying, middle-aged man examined his leg.

"Well, what's the damage?" Master Tobin demanded, leaning against the filthy stone wall.

"It's not good, not good at all," the healer seemed to take a perverse relish in the words, making Master Tobin narrow his eyes. "Along with dislocating his femur, the impact caused fractures in both the femur and pelvis. To make matters worse, he has been left in this state for several days and the bones have attempted to knit together as they are. I will have to re-break the bones in order to set the leg back in place. With such shifting, though, it will be a delicate matter to heal the bones correctly. It is quite likely Mr. Hesuchazo will be left with a significant limp."

Master Tobin straightened up, stepped up very close to the healer and stared him straight in the eye.

"Do your best," he said simply.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Tobin did not turn away as the healer cast two bone-breaking curses, wanting to be a sure witness that every step was followed in the correct order. It couldn't be plainer that this healer was not overly concerned about damage done to a Death Eater's body. In all honesty, Tobin couldn't blame him – Voldemort and his horde of lackeys had been ruining lives for a decade now. Still, the fact remained that this _particular_ Death Eater did not deserve the same rough treatment as the rest.

Aries' face went deathly pale when the healer wrenched his leg back into place, but he neither flinched nor cried out, showing either an unexpected strength or a built-up tolerance for pain. When the whole procedure was done and Aries was offered an undersized dose of pain potion, the idiot started to decline. Tobin put a stop to that right away.

"Take it," he ordered. "You will need it."

Aries glanced at him, then nodded and swallowed the potion. A little bit of color returned to his cheeks. Satisfied, Tobin turned to the guard.

"I am claiming guild-right," he declared. "According to the International Organizations act of 1623, I have the right to have any member of the guild tried in a court of his peers. I will be removing Hesuchazo from Azkaban today."

The Guildmaster just couldn't decide whose expression was more amusing – Aries' or the guard's. The former was looking at him like he'd grown three heads, two of which were singing in French, while the latter was looking at him as though he were an emperor who had just stepped out of his carriage without any clothes on.

"Er…sir…you can't do that!" the guard stammered.

"I think you'll find that, according to the ministry's own laws, I can."

"But…he's a Death Eater," Ivers protested again. "That's a crime against all of magical Britain, not against the Spellsmith's Guild."

Tobin looked at Ivers again – his first estimation of the rather small, mousy-haired young man hadn't been very good, but it seemed the boy had brains.

"It does not matter," he insisted, nonetheless. "Any criminal act by a member of the guild can be tried within the guild, at the discretion of the Guildmaster. In this case, that would be me, so I would appreciate it if you would be so kind as to stop holding my defendant prisoner."

The doctor, looking awkward and uncomfortable, beat a hasty retreat. Ivers ran a shaky hand through his hair, eyes flicking around in deep thought, likely trying to remember everything he knew about guild laws. Finally, looking halfway between resignation and anger, the guard nodded.

"Wait, I'm really going to walk out, just like that?" Aries questioned dumbly.

"It is hardly a simple matter to evoke century old laws," Tobin corrected him firmly. "Besides, I doubt you will be _walking_ anywhere soon."

Aries blinked in confusion, and Tobin could feel his eyes narrowing in wicked delight.

Minutes later they emerged back into the front atrium – if it could be called that. Ivers had taken the fore of their little procession to insure that none of the other guards stopped them. Tobin followed, his wand trained behind him, levitating a sulking Aries.

The warden stormed out of his office, looking like he was going to cause problems. Ivers seemed to think so, too, and made an effort to blend in with the crowd of other guards who had come to see the sight.

"What is the meaning of this?" Umberson demanded, the skin of his neck jiggling obscenely.

With a sigh, Tobin again explained the laws governing guild rights to exclusive trial of members. He almost wished that all members of law enforcement were required to take classes in magical law. Almost. Because, had all the guards taken such a class, it would be far more likely that one of them would point out that he needed the signatures of at lest ten Masters of the guild to actually remove a guild member from ministry control.

As it was, however, the large vacuum of intelligence among the guards of Azkaban would work in his favor, even if it gave him a headache at the same time.

"Fine, fine, take him!" Warden Umberson bellowed. "We have far too many criminals on our hands anyway, one less just means one less greedy, slimy mouth to feed."

Tobin sneered, but held in each of the many, many comments he could make in response. Why did the general populace have to make it so _easy_? Took most of the fun out of it, really.

Just an hour later they had travelled far enough into the North Sea for Tobin to side-along Aries back to Edinburgh. They arrived in the center of the maelstrom that was the Guildmaster's office, and Tobin let his former apprentice drop unceremoniously on the olive green couch opposite the desk. The brunet let out an undignified "Umph" noise and worked on sitting up.

"So, instead of being tried by the Wizengamot," the brunet reasoned slowly. "I'll be tried by the Guild?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Tobin snorted. "How ever would we convince the Guild of your innocence? We can't very well say 'oh he's not a _real_ Death Eater, he's the grown up Boy-Who-Lived sent back in time. And how did you manage to survive Hogwarts with a nickname like that?"

"Got well acquainted with the secret passages," Aries responded with a smile.

Tobin knew there was a reason he didn't hate that boy.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: Well, there you have it. No, not the end of the story, but this chapter. Updates will, I repeat WILL be more frequent from now on, as the story must be finished before I go out of town for 18 months sometime this coming winter.**

**By the way, I will be holding a Q and A session (sort of a 'meet the author, drill the author' kind of thing) over Livejournal on Sunday September 2, unless work gets in the way (in which case I will let you all know in advance when it will be rescheduled) from 8PM to 10PM GMT. Hope to see you all there!**

**PANTZ,**

**Emerson**


	27. The Piece

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here

**Summary:** A monkey in a banana suit is cannibalism at its finest.

**A/N: **Here it is, quite a bit sooner than the last one (if not as quite as soon as I would have liked) and of good size too. Hope you enjoy!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 27: The Piece

A warm meal, comfortable nap, and change of clothes later, Aries looked like his usual impertinent self again. Tobin had used the time while Aries was asleep to craft the documents that would be needed for an acquittal. Remarkable, really, how much simpler such paperwork was when the intended subject didn't technically exist. Of course, it helped rather a lot that Aries wasn't one of the more infamous Death Eaters. Charged with no specific crime and accused by no specific victim, the loss of one small fish among so many larger ones would go unnoticed. With a little bit of luck, the guild would never even know a member had been arrested.

_Hmm, that reminds me…_

"What did you have in mind for your Masterpiece?" Tobin asked. They would have to get that little detail out of the way quickly, so Aries could get out of the country for a bit.

"Er…sir?" the journeyman stammered, grating on Tobin's nerves.

"Your Masterpiece, keep up, boy!" he snapped. "We can't very well send you to University as a journeyman."

"I…I'm afraid I don't understand, sir," Aries responded weakly, which seemed to be an understatement. The expression on the young man's face was one more usually found during a "I didn't study for my NEWTs and I'm not wearing any clothes!" dream.

Well, Tobin supposed he couldn't _really_ blame the boy. After all, he'd only just decided on this course of action a few moments ago.

"The safest place for you right now consists of roughly anywhere not Britain," he explained. "I have a contact at Atlantis University who has informed me they are once again accepting human students. However, it would be ridiculous for such a prestigious school to accept anyone under Master level, so I will need to see and judge your Masterpiece as soon as possible."

Aries' face paled; Tobin raised an eyebrow.

"I haven't," the brunet started, voice cracking. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I haven't thought about it since…since that day."

"You mean just because I told you I wouldn't let you become a Master, you stopped working altogether?" Tobin scoffed. "I hadn't thought you were lazy."

Aries glared at him.

"I'll start on it right away," he declared, his tone making the statement seem like a threat. "How soon do you need it?"

"Well, you've already missed the beginning of Warm Current Semester," Tobin mused, "so we just need to get your application in within the Cold Current Semester application period. Given undersea postage time, the time I'll need to judge your piece, and the time for the ceremony marking you a Master…" Aries looked hopeful. "You have five days."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Severus stalked through the dungeon at Hogwarts, snarling at every hapless student who crossed his path. He was worried and unsure, and those were two feelings he despised over almost all others. The new professor had been popping back to the Safe House every few hours, exchanging messages with Charles and hoping for some word about Aries. That was one area in which Dumbledore had been singularly unhelpful.

"I'm so sorry, Severus," the old coot had said, beard sagging remorsefully, "but to get you released I had to call much of the Order as witnesses. Only you, Charles, and I know that Aries is innocent; our words alone are simply not enough."

Severus privately suspected that Dumbledore wasn't very fond of Aries – who did tend to be significantly too smart or too nosy for his own good – and thus wasn't putting very much effort into freeing the other spy.

Charles had confirmed what the Daily Prophet had reported, that Aries had indeed been taken into custody, but had been unable thus far to make a visit to Azkaban and speak to the prisoner himself. The Ministry was wrapping itself in red tape like a security blanket, making even the simplest requests take twice as long, and time was not on their side. Severus had only spent two nights among the dementors, but that was far more than he ever wanted to experience again.

For any human being with the slightest bit of remorse, Azkaban was truly Hell. The dementors stripped away all the happy justifications for one's crimes, leaving only the horrible knowledge, formerly hidden in the back of the mind, that the criminal had harmed other people, consciously and deliberately. Fortunately, this did result in fewer repeat offenders.

Unfortunately, it did not work on those whose souls held no room for remorse or guilt. If Bellatrix Lestrange was ever captured, she would likely invite the dementors to tea.

Aries, Charles attested, had a capacity for guilt that quite outstripped even usual Gryffindor suffering, and they both knew that dementors were the young man's worst fear. All in all, each day Aries was left in that place decreased the likelihood they would find him sane.

"You! What's your name and house, boy!" Severus snapped at a child who was running through the halls with no tie.

"N-Nolan Tydeweather, Huff-Hufflepuff!" the little mongrel squeaked.

"10 points from Hufflepuff for lack of regulation uniform, Mr. Tydeweather," the Slytherin professor sneered. "And don't let it happen again."

"Y-yes sir!" Nolan looked aghast but didn't argue, just ducked his head and scurried on.

Severus snorted, Hufflepuffs weren't any good when you were spoiling for a fight, but Gryffindors knew better than to wander into the snake pit.

At least, now they did.

Needless to say, the Potions Master was not in a good mood when Dumbledore skipped merrily into his office later that night. The headmaster was wearing a gregarious outfit, sky blue robes with little animated canaries flying dizzyingly around them and a hat that was so blindingly bright it seemed to glow in the dark. Severus could feel a headache coming on just looking at the old man.

"Ah, Severus, here you are!" Dumbledore chirped needlessly.

"As are you, headmaster," Severus sneered. "Now, may I ask why?"

"I have news, good news I think."

"You _think_?" Severus raised an eyebrow.

"Well, other possibilities may arise, but so far it sounds good," the headmaster nodded. He paused, just long enough for Severus to wonder if he would have to prompt the old wizard again, then continued. "I received news earlier today from Azkaban, through a contact of mine. It seems our mutual acquaintance is no longer in his cell."

Severus did not gape, but his eyes grew wide in shock.

"Not in his…did he escape?" he demanded.

"I don't know for certain, but I do not believe so," Dumbledore denied. "The warden, according to all reports, is quite unconcerned with our young friend's absence, which would undoubtedly not be the case had he managed to escape the inescapable prison."

"I will try to find him," Severus decided, standing quickly. "He may try to go…to a few places familiar to him."

Not waiting to hear the headmaster's objection – if, indeed, one was coming – Severus swooped out the door and continued at a fast pace until he reached the boundaries of the wards at the edge of Hogsmead. From there, he apparated to the Safe House.

Aries was sure to show up as soon as he could.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The Safe House was the furthest thing from Aries' mind. He was holed up in the Spellsmith's Guild Library, poring over books at a frantic pace, hoping against hope to find a brilliant idea in one of the dusty tomes. Unfortunately, every book he read was just that: dusty, dull, and so dry that he felt like his eyes were turning to raisins in their sockets. It was really quite draining, to have to read "directed, intentional, airborne magical emissions of classes 5E through 12BB" three times over before remembering that meant 'advanced charms'.

Disgusted, Aries remembered the notes he had taken back in school when such subjects as Transfiguration and Potions had seemed so confusing. He'd broken everything down into parts he could understand, and wrote it out in words he could use. The tactic had never failed him yet, and he wondered when the pride of these old codgers had overtaken their desire to actually _teach_ anyone anything.

Finally, the _lumos_ came on. Aries put the impressive books away and got to work.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Charles now had a desk. He'd never had such a luxury before, but he wasn't quite sure he wanted one now. His current 'desk' was made entirely of stacks of paperwork from the end of the war. Amazing, really, how much paperwork was required to process a miracle. Chillingly, most of the real work was the process of dragging the ministry back from the brink, as it had slowly begun to fall into the Dark Lord's hands before his most fortunate defeat.

Despite working in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, Charles was currently working on signing Interdepartmental Evidence Requisition Forms (11Q3-4B) to get important bits such as Death Eater masks and wands back from the Department of Mysteries. They'd been sent there months before, for no apparent reason other than keeping the Auror office from looking at them. The next stack over was Legislative Review Scheduling Forms (87TY3-09L) to bring the Wizengamot together and have them look over some of the more questionable laws passed during the war. Every 'useless grunt', as Moody called them, had been turned into a Notary-For-The-Week and given a mountain of paperwork.

The redhead glanced with a mixture of eagerness, anxiety, and pride at his third pile. He'd managed to swipe it from Games and Sports when no one was looking, but couldn't safely work though it until his assigned tasks were done. Still, he was certain that the prisoner files for prisoners Felsbar, Aggin through Imerick, Samuel had the answers he needed to find and help his captured friend.

At about two in the morning, almost two full weeks since Aries had been captured, the redhead finished his tasks and moved onto the criminal files.

Felsbar, Flint, Fogerty, Forton, Funtrumple… Gilman, Gorman, Gulius… Halfhill… Hesuchazo! Charles' eyes focused with renewed alacrity on the page before him.

Hesuchazo, Aries; Prisoner X125690, cell D235; status: released into the custody of Spellsmith Guildmaster Tobin Kon pending a guild trial – see International Organizations Act, Section XXVI paragraph 32: Guild rights in criminal proceedings.

Charles was familiar with the Act, and the section on criminal proceedings. By the letter of the law, a prisoner of the Ministry could not be released for a guild trial without a lengthy application process involving letters of recommendation from multiple Masters of that guild. To say that Aries had been released into Kon's custody suggested that the new Guildmaster had gone around the laws to get his hands on Aries. The former Slytherin's mind buzzed with the new information, remembering a conversation he had with Aries back in their last year at Hogwarts.

_"…__think like a Slytherin for just a second here; I know you can. You are at a disadvantage. In three years, this man will probably know exactly who you are. You'll still have sixteen years after that before you can afford to make your identity public. That means that for sixteen years he holds your life in his hands. Excuse me if I don't like that fact!"_

_Aries blinked, nonplussed. Was Charles actually worried…for __him__? This was such an odd concept that it took him a few moments to actually register what exactly his friend had said, but when he did he had to sit down rather abruptly._

_"You mean…blackmail?" he asked shakily. "Why would he blackmail __me__?"_

_Charles snorted. "Are you joking? You're Harry Potter!__"_

Was this it, then? Was the Spellsmith who knew too much going to blackmail Aries? Charles knew that his friend had the utmost respect for his former teacher, but the redhead wasn't so gullible – people weren't altruistic by nature. With a quick flick of his wand to turn off the lights in the Muggle Artifacts office, Charles apparated to the Safe House; Sev needed to know where Aries was, and that he was possibly in danger.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Severus paused in his stirring and coaxed some of the small to his discerning nose. He could tell the instant the pine needles reacted with the salimander saliva, as the smell of sulfur was suddenly replaced with pine smoke. The antipyrrhetic was ready to be bottled, which meant the young Potions Master, once again, would have nothing to do.

Full potion bottles cluttered the counters of the kitchen in the Safe House. Healing potions of all sorts, memory reviving potions mixed with chocolate - to counter the effects of dementors - even nutrient potions for all the different blood types. Whenever one brew was finished, Severus started another, trying not to use the growing quantity of bottles as a measurement of how long he'd been without word from or about Aries.The pop of apparition sounded just as Severus was ladling the quickly thickening potion into a clean vial. The black-haired man was so startled that he spilled his concoction all over the sink as he whirled around to face the newcomer.

"Oh, Charles," he grimaced in disappointment at the first sight of red hair. "Any news?"But he could tell, as soon as he looked at Charles' face, that there was news. Big news.

"Aries has been released," the ministry worked stated grimly.

"Released?" Sev repeated, nonplussed. "And this is bad?"

"He was released," Charles explained, "into the custody of someone who has blackmail material on him."

Severus felt his blood chill. He barely took the time to vanish the gelatenous potion as he reached for his cloak. Charles directed their apparition to Edinburgh and led the way as they hurried down the street. Several seconds had passed before Sev cared enough to ask.

"To whom was Aries released?"

"His Spellsmith master."

Severus almost stumbled in his long strides. He had often heard Aries talk about Master Kon, and it was always with the highest respect; could Aries be unaware that he was now in the clutches of a man who could ruin his life?

The Spellsmith Guildhouse was an impressive example of Gothic architecture. Long vertical lines served to make the building seem larger than could actually fit on its rather small lot. To Severus, it seemed forbidding and prison-like. The doors were heavy and old, making them difficult to open, which only increased the Slytherin's original, confining impression of the place. Beyond the imposing doors was a well-lit reception area, with a cheerful looking secretary dressed in tight, hot-pink robes, filing her robes behind a desk.

"Welcome to the Spellsmith Guildhouse, tours start at 4:11, 5:38, and 6:59, and the guildhouse closes at 8:00 pm. My name is Candy, how may I help you?" she recited in a high pitched voice.

"Er…we're looking for Aries Hesuchazo," Charles began hesitantly. "He's a good friend of ours."

"Journeyman Hesuchazo has reserved Research and Experimentation Room 3 and has Do Not Disturb spells up," Candy explained. "You can wait for him upstairs down the main hall on your right, look for Observation Room C. I'll let him know you're here when the DNDs fall."

"Thank you," the redhead nodded politely at the receptionist and headed for the main stairs at the back of the lobby.

The idea of 'do not disturb' spells made Severus want to go storming in and halt whatever nefariousmethods the guildmasterwas using toforce Aries' compliance. However, his Slytherin nature demanded he be more circumspect, and he followed Charles at a relatively normal pace up the wide stairs. The 'main hallway' turned out to be the only hallway, so he and Charles turned right and started looking for the observation room. Offices lined the hallway first, then they turned a corner and saw two double doors to the left leading to a library, with nothing but windows on the right. Another corner, and they were now halfway around the building. Finally, they found a row of rooms labeled "Observation Gallery" and quickly moved to the door with a large brass C. By this time all Slytherin circumspectness had worn off and Severus opened the door with undue force in his haste.

The man inside raised an eyebrow at them, then turned back to the large screen dominating one of the walls.

"Are you Guildmaster Kon?" Charles demanded.The man nodded. He wasn't quite what Severus had expected - of moderate height, dark brown hair, with a firm jaw, Tobin Kon looked about as unremarkable as a person could.

"Where's Aries?" Charles pressed loudly. At this, Kon turned back to them, eyes narrowed in aslight glare.

"Shush," he declared.

Suddenly Severus realized he had no desire to make any noise whatsoever, and was reminded quite forcefully of when the Headmaster had the same effect in the great hall when he needed to make an announcement.

"My apprentice is crafting," the guildmaster continued mildly.

For the first time, Severus turned his gaze to the screen and found himself staring into what was obviously an experimentation room. Scorch marks littered the walls and floor in a variety of ashen colors. In the center of the room, Aries shuffled along the floor, placing candle after candle in a circle around himself. Severus could think of several rituals that required candles, but none allowed for more than could be connected by a continuous astral, or a star shape made from one unbroken line. Aries was using dozens, and placing them so close together as to eliminate any possibility of astral connection. Then the Slytherin noticed that, although he was inside the circle, Aries was not the center. Instead, a small book seemed to have taken the focal point.

"He wrote that book," Tobin spoke quietly, as if reading Severus' thoughts. "In only two days, he outlined the basic points of magical theory in all the major disciplines clearly and concisely. The fool's been studying."

"What is he doing?" Severus ventured in the same tone.

"He's making a Candle of Illumination," Charles spoke up.

Severus glanced at his friend, then turned back to the screen. He'd heard of Candles of Illumination – who hadn't after the mad study for OWLs and NEWTs at Hogwarts? Every industrial upperclassman claimed they had a Candle of Illumination for sale. Supposedly simply lighting the candle would grant a witch or wizard greater insight into any line of thought or study. The method for making them was thought to be unknown, but was, apparently, simply a well-kept secret.

Aries had finished placing the candles and seemed to be bracing himself. The words the Spellsmith started chanting didn't carry to the avid observers, but the effects were certainly visible enough. First, all the lights dropped, leaving Aries barely visible. Then, with a broad sweep of his wand, the brunet lit all the candles at once, sending out an orange glow that filled the room. Then came the hard part. Still chanting, Aries touched his wand tip to each candle, then to the book, acting as if he were pulling a piece of wax off and depositing it on the cover. Only once all the candles had been touched did Aries step outside the circle. A look of fierce concentration took over the young man's face and he held his wand in both hands, like a sword.

The lights went out again.

For a tense moment, neither Severus nor Charles dared breathe. Then, a great spark illuminated the scene of Aries, on one knee, his wand hitting the center of the now-open book. The light spread through the words, then receded, leaving the room dark once again.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries collapsed against the ground, breathing heavily. A single candle couldn't give off too much heat, but standing in a circle of 100 lit candles while performing advanced magic was, to put it simply, exhausting. He hoped his experiment had worked, but didn't have the energy to turn on the lights and look for himself, so the young Spellsmith was quite grateful when the door opened and the lights came on automatically.

"Yes!" Aries exclaimed weakly. The book was still there, it wasn't a pile of ashes or another char mark.

"Are you alright, Aries?" Charles' voice tried to ask, but Master Tobin cut across him.

"Don't just sit there, your friends have come all this way to see you," he scolded, making Aries smile.

The brunet hoisted himself to his feet, wincing at a bit of leftover pain in his hip, and turned to face his friends, his small smile transforming into a broad grin.

"_Journeyman Hesuchazo, two gentlemen are here to see you_."

"Thank you, Candy," Aries called out to the magical intercom, then stretched out a hand to Charles, who stood slightly in front of Sev. "It's so good to see-"

WHACK!

Aries was cut off by a sharp punch to the jaw, sending him spinning back to the floor.

"You utter prat," Charles growled, cradling his hand. "You've been released for three days now, safe as can be, and you can't send an owl, can't pop over to you-know-where for _one minute_ to let us know you're alright?"

"Aries, you didn't contact your friends?" Tobin gasped. "I know that with trying to create a Masterpiece in three days time, combined with the fact that the nearest owl office is three blocks away and you can't be seen, and the fact that the guildhouse has been cut off from the floo network for months, it wouldn't be easy, but you really should have made more of an effort."

"Oh, ha-ha," Aries drawled, rubbing his chin. "Look, I know I should have sent word, but, as Master Tobin was kind enough to point out, there hasn't been time or means. I was intending to sneak to an apparition point as soon as I was done here. I'm glad you both are alright."

Charles looked a little chagrined and reached out a hand, which Aries grasped. The redhead pulled his friend sharply to his feet, but let go in shock when Aries hissed, eyes scrunched up in pain, leaning heavily on his left leg.

"Aries?" Severus prompted, placing his hand on the brunet's elbow to help steady him. "Are you alright?"

"Fine, fine," Aries gasped, gingerly putting his weight back on his right leg. "Just, a little slower next time, right?"

Tobin had wandered over and picked up the book while they were talking. Now he examined it carefully, raising an eyebrow when he opened it and a small, white flame appeared over the spine.

"Well, at the very least," he interrupted, ignoring the non-spellsmiths, "you've created a book with its own reading light. I'll take this to the advancement council and we should know within the day. Be back in my office directly after dinner."

"Yes, sir," Aries agreed, leading his friends out of the room. He could feel butterflies in his stomach at the thought of a council of Masters poring over his book, which seemed like a silly idea now. All he'd wanted to do was make a little guide book for magical theory that was easy to understand. Since the original was now a Candle of Illumination as well, any copies made with a standard Publisher's Printing spell would retain some of that illuminating capability. Oh, but he should have remembered how bad a writer he was, his essays were always horrible, and it's not like _he_ knew that much about magical theory.

"I believe your master said something about dinner?" Severus inquired politely.

"Hm? Oh, yes," Aries shook away the worrisome and pointless thoughts - after all, Master Tobin wouldn't have hesitated to tell him if the book had been a horrible idea. "A few of the older masters and their apprentices live in the guildhouse full time, so there's a small kitchen area in the basement. Here, let me take you to my rooms so we can talk, and we'll have something sent up.

Aries led them to a lift tucked away in one of the winding hallways and pushed the button for the fourth floor.

"Apprentices usually stay in dormitory rooms and Journeymen in rooms adjoining their master's, but since my master is also the guildmaster, he requires his own set of rooms, thus leaving me with my own set of rooms," Aries explained, leading them down the hall to his door.

"Do you live in these quarters often?" Sev inquired.

"Oh, goodness no." Aries shook his head emphatically. "The rent is astronomical. I'd run out of galleons in a month. This is actually only the second time I've even been to the guildhouse. Master Tobin brought me here after dragging me out of Azkaban."

Charles looked around the room with interest, noting the quality furnishings of the slightly cramped space. The room was almost entirely taken up by a four-post bed, small writing desk, armchair and coffee table. A narrow door to one side suggested a private bathroom, but it would likely be just as small.

"What are your plans now?" the redhead asked. "You wouldn't be widely recognized as a Death Eater, but it would make it harder for you to find work."

"Master Tobin thinks I would be better off out of Europe for a while." Aries sat on the bed and rubbed the back of his neck. "That's why we had to rush through the masterpiece; he wants me certified in time to apply for a semester at Atlantis University."

"Atlantis University!" Charles repeated. "I didn't think they accepted humans."

"I didn't know it actually existed," Severus added. "No one has seen it in centuries."

"That's because they think humans are narrow-minded," Charles scoffed. "Snobby mer-people."

"Really?" Aries looked nervously from one to another. "Sounds a little tense."

"Who cares about tense?" the redhead all but pounced on his friend. "Atlantis University is one of the best educational facilities in the world! They're the only school that teaches every known non-human language, as well as the only school that offers a doctorate program in Non-Human Cultures, though they call it Cross-Being Culture Studies. You're quite possibly the luckiest man alive."

Aries raised an eyebrow skeptically, but didn't argue. Mostly because, at that instant, a large platter of food and three place settings appeared on the coffee table. While his friends were distracted, Aries worried and picked at his food.

He had thought, when Master Tobin first told him about Atlantis University, that it would be like Hogwarts, only older and underwater. Maybe a submarine version of the Hogwarts Express would take him there even. But the Atlantis University Charles described sounded more like his primary schools after the Dursleys got at them. The teachers would already expect him to be stupid, not fit in, or otherwise be a troublemaker. Of course, the whole thing would be moot if the council didn't approve his Masterpiece, or if the University decided to simply not accept his application.

Oog, even the treacle tart didn't look good…

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Two hours later, after pudding was neatly packed away and the three were all caught up, Aries politely excused himself. He didn't think he wanted Sev and Charles witnessing this, for good or ill. Although the Guildmaster's office was three floors up, Aries took the stairs. He still had bad memories of the last time he was in the lift of this building, and didn't want to tempt fate into a repeat performance.

The hallway looked much the same as it had two years ago. Ethel Chorish still held her position as Master of Lexicon – Aries eagerly anticipated the day he would be asked to submit a new spell for her approval – however, Master Hamel Hamish now occupied the office that had formerly belonged to Master Tobin, and Guildmaster Heinrich's nameplate now adorned his sleeping portrait instead of the third door.

Aries knocked nervously on the ancient wood door – far less regal than Headmaster Dumbledore's, he couldn't help but notice. The call to enter came almost too quickly. Master Tobin sat behind his expansive cedar desk, and four other masters making up the Mastery Council stood to either side, forming a semi-circle around Aries. Masters Chorish and Hamish on Tobin's right, and two others Aries didn't recognize on the left.

The junior Spellsmith hoped the formality was a good sign.

"Journeyman Hesuchazo," Master Chorish began, her booming, slightly creaky voice startling him. "You have called for a council of Masters of Spellsmithery. What do you wish?"

"I wish your judgment, Masters," Aries replied, feeling the words come as if he'd practiced them a thousand times. "A product of my skill and knowledge, gifted and earned, I lay before you. Please give me your thoughts."

From there, each of the masters took turns speaking, leaving Master Tobin for last. To Aries, their words blurred together, and he could not have repeated them afterward if his life depended on it, but a few phrases stuck out.

"Grasp of the nature of magic."

"Ability to adapt complex magic to alternative uses."

"Desire to increase the knowledge and understanding of others."

Finally, it was the Guildmaster's turn to speak.

"Aries Hesuchazo, I have watched your progress from a mere apprentice boy to where you stand now: a man and wizard of admirable standing. My peers have spoken, and to there words I have nothing to add. We accept you as a fellow Master of our craft. Adorn yourself, from here on out, as Master Spellsmith Aries Hesuchazo."

With a wave of his wand, Aries' robes were transfigured to deep Master blue, with a Spellsmith crest over his left breast.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: Ta-****Da****! People have been asking how Aries would end up a master ever since that incident with Tobin; well, there you have it. Next chapter: Atlantis U!**

**PANTZ,**

**Emy**


	28. Atlantis U

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary: **126,000 monkeys jumping on 125,999 beds 125,998 bumped heads

**A/N:** Okay, so it took a bit longer than I'd hoped, but here it is. Just to give you fair warning, I'm taking November off to do NaNoWriMo (my first time, I'm kinda nervous), but I'll try and sneak in the next chapter while I'm at it.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 28: Atlantis U

_January 6, 1982_

_Dear Charles and Sev,_

_I arrived at the campus yesterday morning and spent the rest of the day being given a whirlwind tour by my roommate, a centaur named Arion. We live in a building right next to the air harbor called the ABD building, or Air-Breather Dorms. The merpeople live on the other side of campus in a building connected to the wall of the Air Dome, called the OLS building, or Oceanic Living Space. The entire campus is under the Air Dome I mentioned, but there are connecting tubes between buildings and halls within buildings that are filled with sea water for the mer-students and faculty to get around. There's a beautiful kelp quad in front of the Dean Building that keeps the air inside the dome fresh._

_My classes this semester are all going to be generals, because I haven't even heard of most of their majors before and haven't the slightest idea what to specialize in. So far I'm taking Mermish 101 (a requirement for every student, and prerequisite to almost every class), Basic Courtesies of European Races, Intelligent Biology, and History of Interracial Warfare. That's another thing, the ministry always called different peoples 'beings' or 'half-humans' – here, they're called races, and I get the feeling not a one of them considers themselves any part human._

_Well, I need to get to bed; Tomorrow, Arion is going to introduce me to the other students (I was kind of a late arrival)._

_Your friend,_

_Aries_

_-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-_

_January 29, 1982_

_Dear Charles and Sev,_

_I can't believe it's already been three weeks since I sent that last letter. So much has been going on, it's such a different world here. The number of races I've seen since coming here has been incredible! My study group alone has a centaur, two merpeople, a vampire, and a goblin. There are also werewolves, bugbears, dwarves, naga, hags, leprechauns, veela, a couple pixies, and one of the emeritus professors was a sphinx! And my Courtesies class covers even more races – the ones of sentient, but not uni-level intelligence, like giants, trolls, sprites, house-elves (which are just called elves here), even things like acromantulae. _

_In my Biology class, we had a whole lecture on why 'humanoid' is an offensive term. The professor kept looking at me throughout the whole class, but I just kept my head down and took notes. It turns out that hands are the most essential body part to accompany sentience, and that's why most sentient races have hairless upper bodies and hand with opposable thumbs. The fact that they look kind of like humans is just a 'coincidence of convergent evolution'. Other than that one lecture, though, that class has been really interesting. Did you know that a centaur's heart takes up almost it's whole upper chest? And they have one lung in the upper chest, and another in the lower chest._

_Anyway, I'm probably boring you with all that talk about classes. What's really cool here are the games. Each race brings their own favorite games and we all gather on the courtyard during off-days (which are every five days in accordance with the mermish week). I can't wait to show you what I've learned. Arion taught me a bit of archery, and Crunchmallet (the goblin in our study group, we just call him Crunch) has taught us his favorite goblinish betting games. And in the Pool Building we try racing the mer-students (we always lose, but it's fun anyway._

_Ack, Crunch needs some help with his mermish – he just needs to open his mouth bigger, I think – so I'll send you another letter soon. Hope things are going well on the surface! Charles told me what you did to the Gryffindors that last class, Sev; be nice!_

_Your friend,_

_Aries_

_-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-_

_February 6, 1982_

_Dear Charles and Sev,_

_I narrowly escaped getting beat up the other day. It's kind of funny, thinking back on it. Arion and I were playing a ball game with the werewolves when one of them twisted her ankle really bad. She could hardly walk, so I suggested Arion carry her to the infirmary. Yikes! Arion looked like I'd called him the son of a donkey, he was so offended, and I had to spend a tense few minutes explaining about 'piggy-back rides' before he stopped looking ready to punch me. Humans have offended a lot of races because we're too arrogant to learn what's polite to them; needless to say I need to watch my mouth._

_Also, I've signed up for a semester of Martial Arts, just in case. The werewolves keep making fun of me for not being able to hold my own in a fight without 'a stick and a lot of flashing lights'. I've earned the nickname 'peacock' because of it. Don't worry, I assure them that nickname should apply to you, Charles. _

_I'm thinking of majoring in Defensive Methods, what do you guys think? Some of the classes for it are really interesting, and would expose me to the cultures and magicks of all kinds of races. Plus, the advisor is my History of Warfare professor, and he's really experienced and tells all kinds of neat stories about battles with the Kraken. He says the Kraken attacks Atlantis U every year because we're too close to its territory. I think he's just trying to scare us._

_I've gotten back in the habit of exercising. The Physical Health and Fitness professor got me a permit to transfigure some human weight sets, but I usually just use the track and pool in the Pool Building. It hurt my hip at first, but I think building up some muscle is good for it. One of the mer-students, a girl named Nïaura, swims with me on occasion. She can talk while she swims, and seems to have no end of questions about humans and the surface because she never stops talking. I still need gillyweed to speak mermish underwater, so I get to embarrass myself by trying to answer her on the surface. Ask me in a couple years about the toe/tail incident, when I can laugh about it._

_Charles, are you really going to become an Auror? I'd never have expected it, but I think it's great. From what you've said, the ministry really needs a few good wizards right now. So let them know if you see one, okay? Sev, keep his head from getting too big while I'm away._

_Your Friend,_

_Aries_

_-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-_

_March 10, 1982_

_Dear Charles and Sev,_

_Sweet Merlin, guys. Remember that funny story my History of Warfare professor told about the Kraken? NOT A STORY. The stupid thing attacked two weeks ago. All the junior students had to anchor the air bubble while the senior students and staff fought it off. It did some serious damage, though. The Pool Building flooded, which flooded parts of the ABD – this is the first dry piece of parchment I've seen since. All classes were cancelled for a while so we could help clean up the mess. Stupid Kraken._

_Supply lines were interrupted for a few days, too, so the other Air Breathers and I have been living off kelp salads and tuna. I can't even tell you how excited I was to see bread and red meat and apples. Oh, the apples, you can't possibly comprehend how delicious apples are when you've been sucking down seaweed._

_In any case, I'm definitely majoring in Defensive Methods. After seeing some of the moves those senior students pulled off, I'd be kicking myself for the next decade if I didn't learn them. Speaking of which, I'm still wrestling with the werewolves, and they don't beat me quite as quickly anymore._

_Nïaura was really scared by the Kraken. She was in the Pool Building when it flooded and was almost sucked outside with the monster. She hasn't been back to the Pool Building since, so I hardly ever see her, but I hear she's taking trident lessons with some of the senior mer-students. I think it's great that she's working to get better, but it's strange going swimming without her there chatting in my ear._

_In general, though, life is getting back to normal. My mermish is improving, and the Goblin wars are much more interesting from the other end. Tell me more about the surface. Is the ministry piecing itself back together? Is Malfoy still in disgrace or has he wormed his way back into the limelight? How many sunny days have you had? I want to hear about my own world – the one thing all the professors in Atlantis U can't teach me._

_Your Friend,_

_Aries_

_-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-_

_March 24, 1982_

_Dear Charles and Sev,_

_I just got back from three days' break for the Algae Festival. The Mermish professor took all of us junior students on a trip to Greater Atlantis and let us mingle with the locals. Naturally lots of gillyweed was consumed when we weren't using bubblehead charms, but they grow it locally so it's really inexpensive. I bought an extra jar for you, Sev, so stop glaring jealously at the paper._

_Atlantian delicacies are something else, though. They have this pastry, the gercshish, that's made of choral and something else, and I swear it tastes just like Turkish Delight! And no one on the surface can even claim they've had smoked salmon until they've had salmon smoked over a volcanic vent._

_By the way, never make the mistake of thinking a centaur can't swim. Especially a centaur on gillyweed. I dared Arion to a race from the Achtish Mung back to the market, and it was like racing a galloping horse with a lead weight tied to one foot. Thanks to that foolish little wager I'm going to be wearing a blauthe for two weeks. Nïaura's going to have a great laugh, I just know it._

_Oh yeah, Nïaura's swimming in the Pool Building again. She said that her trident instructor told her that fear would be the only enemy that could defeat her, so she just couldn't justify staying away any longer. So far things are going well; I keep her distracted with stories from the surface and questions about her childhood in the ocean, and before we know it we've been swimming together for hours._

_Sev, next time Jonas Dougal tries that, just look at him, stare him down. Loud brats like him can't stand not being talked to, so he'll say something after a few seconds that'll let you take points. I hope your snakes appreciate how much you stick your neck out for them._

_Charles, I shouldn't read your letters while eating anymore. Your last one almost made me spit out my cafta all over Crunch. Mad aurors are the same everywhere, I suppose. Don't let him kick you out, though. I've seen you duel and I bet you could beat any of the other students with one hand. Oh, and thanks for the care package, I hadn't seen pumpkin juice in months. Unfortunately, the entire jug is gone now. Keep up the good work, and I'll try and find surface transport for Marchtal Break._

_Your friend,_

_Aries_

_-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-_

_April 10, 1982_

_Dear Charles and Sev,_

_Sorry! I had no idea I was slipping in mermish words. We started an immersion program, so I've been speaking and listening to nothing but mermish for almost a month now. So, some translation for the words you included. Achtish Mung is kind of like an amphitheatre, except it also serves as the main social gathering place for the merpeople in a neighborhood. You don't find merpeople anywhere without an Achtish Mung – the university has three!_

_A blauthe is a dwarvish headband signifying dishonor. See, a dwarf can only wear a headband if he isn't wearing a helmet, and to be without a helmet is by itself a sign of dishonor, the headband is just an extra symbol. Yes, I did wear it for a weak, and yes, Nïaura did laugh at me._

_Cafta is to the merpeople what tea is to us. It's a warm drink, contained in spherical 'cups' and sipped through a straw. I don't know what it's made of, and I'm not really sure I want to know, but it's really great in the mornings when the sun hasn't reached the seabed._

_Marchtal is the great whale migration. Herds of them will darken the sun in two weeks, so we all get a break from classes for it. Speaking of, the only surface transport before the whales cut us off is going to be April 21, and will drop me at Gibraltar. Could you guys take a couple days off to pick me up and take a little scenic apparition tour back up to Britain?_

_We got our midterm grades. I don't know where to begin explaining the mermish grading system to you, but suffice it to say I'm passing all my classes. I'm still tutoring Crunch in mermish, and he could stand to do better in elf etiquette (he tells me he's allergic to smiling that much), but is now tutoring me in History of Warfare, as he knows quite a lot of it already. Whenever my classmates ask why I don't know some of this already, I just wish I could really express how truly and deeply boring Binns is._

_Finals were pushed back a week because of the kraken attack, so I won't be out for the big break before Cold Current Semester until almost June. I'm planning to take a trip to South America to visit a Naga colony, but I don't know if I'm going to have the funds. I might have to do a good bit of Spellsmithing first._

_I hope all is well in the human magical world; it's quite odd being so utterly disconnected from my own race. But it certainly does let me see the other races in a new light. There's not such an 'us and them' mentality here – we're all students, and we're all away from home, so it's easier to see how alike we are, and how our differences are more individual than genetic. I wonder what the Dark Lord would make of this place._

_Probably nothing good._

_Morbidly yours,_

_Aries_

_-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-_

Aries arrived at the Rock of Gibraltar slightly wetter than he expected. A drying charm chilled him, but so far south the spring air was warm and quite comfortable. Charles and Sev had let him know that they weren't able to meet him – one of the drawbacks of having vacations on a mermish calendar – so Aries had cut his tour of Spain down to a visit to the goblin forge at Toledo.

Crunch had assured him that goblins everywhere spoke Gobbledygook, so the rudimentary phrases Aries had learned in their Courtesy class would hopefully serve him well. Not to mention the few extra phrases he'd had his goblin friend teach him; phrases like "**Grabtan gernot, brabber drat terton**?" _This is nice, do you have something smaller? _ And "**Babberton-inger dermit dagban**?" _How much for an inscription?_

The entrance to magical Toledo was down a muggle-repellant path at the ruins of a Roman circus, and Aries enjoyed looking at the scenery as he walked. Most other magical portals he'd taken were in cramped pubs like the Leaky Cauldron, so the circus was a welcome change. Inside, however, magical Toledo was much like Diagon Alley, except more so. More sun, more color, more people, more noise, more of everything that had made Diagon Alley so wonderfully exciting the first time he'd seen it. It was brilliant!

Oddly enough, even though everyone was speaking Spanish, Aries found he had no trouble understanding what was going on. It really was quite a bit like Diagon Alley. This merchant was advertising a sale on yeti toenails - judging by the jar of yellowed crescents the size of a man's thumb - and that merchant was haggling over the price of a potion that likely didn't do half of what he was promising. People were such interesting creatures, how had he not noticed it before?

Goblins lied when they wanted someone to buy something, but only about anything other than the product in question. He might claim to have two mothers, or to be the king of something, or he might claim that he'd traveled all over the world, when he'd never been beyond the caverns of his own clan, but he would never lie about a sword, or jewelry, or any other object for sale. This had caused much strife between the two races, leading to interesting results. For instance, among humans, goblin wares were the best in the business because they could do anything a goblin said they could, but goblins were still considered liars. To goblins, humans seemed like sneak-thieves when it came to merchandise, but had a reputation as being very open and welcoming on the topic of family and their own past.

Aries just figured it would be better to lie as little as possible, period. Except about the whole fake identity…thing.

The Toledo branch of Gringotts was easy to spot, towering above all the little shops and inns of the market street. The brunet took a moment to wonder why the goblins built the bank so tall when they themselves were much more comfortable underground. Perhaps Goblins understood humans a little more clearly than most wizards would like. Aries knew that the forge wouldn't be located inside a bank, but that seemed to be the best place to ask for directions, given that he knew how to say "Where is?" and the name of the forge in Gobbledigook, but not in Spanish.

Carefully maneuvering around the business-wizards queuing up to count their riches or some-such, Aries approached the help desk and waited patiently to gain the notice of the female goblin busily jotting down notes.

"Buenos dias," she said finally, her voice gravelly and her Spanish accent horrible, at least to the British wizard's untrained ear. "Como puedo ayudarte?"

"**Gratten ikdaash Biling Forge**?" Aries asked politely.

The goblin woman raised an eyebrow and stared at the wizard for so long that Aries seriously began to think he'd offended her and was frantically searching his memory for the Gobbledygook word for 'sorry'. Just as he was starting to sweat, however, her posture relaxed and the corners of her mouth tilted ever so slightly.

"**Biling Forge grna **Rio Roja Camino**, gerdash chekta**," she told him kindly.

Aries nodded his thanks and stepped away, repeating the instructions in his mind. _"Biling Forge is on Rio Roja Camino _(hopefully that was a road of some sort)_, due south_."

A quick _point me_ spell and a few nervous checks of road signs, and Aries stood before a quaint building, with nonetheless noticeably Goblin architecture, with the name Biling Forge painted proudly above the door.

The first room inside the shop, the showroom, was poorly lit by a small, candle chandelier. Reflections of the tiny flames sparkled on the fine examples of blades, jewelry, and other metallic trinkets that lined the walls. At the back of the room, in front of the wall that separated the showroom from the forge itself, was a tall wooden counter, behind which a very old goblin slept soundly. Aries wracked his brain for the proper conduct when approaching a sleeping goblin, but drew a blank. Finally, he decided on an old standby – make a lot of noise and pretend you never noticed he was sleeping.

Subtly casting a noise illusion on his soft beluga-leather boots, the Spellsmith clomped around, pretending to be deeply engrossed in the examination of a matching pair of swords. The clerk-goblin woke with a snort after the first few footfalls.

"_**Precious gems**__!"_ he cursed in startled Gobbledigook. "_**Who's there**__?"_

"_**Greetings, good craftsman**_" Aries responded quickly, before the goblin could attempt a more coherent greeting in Spanish. "_**My name is **_Master Aries Hesuchazo_** I seek the finest of blades**_"

Flattery was irresponsible in Goblin culture, so Aries could not go on to say that he had heard Biling Forge was the place to buy blades, even though it was the truth. His Courtesy professor's lecture on the subject rang clearly in the spellsmith's memory.

_"By forcing the Goblin into admitting his own accomplishments, you both honor that goblin and earn the right to be dealt with fairly and on an equal level. So don't screw it up by trying to be nice!_"

The clerk was silent, waiting for Aries to fall into that very trap, but the brunet was determined for this first application of his studies to go well. Eventually, the skeptical look on the goblin's face shifted to one of curious speculation.

"_**Our forge makes better blades than any other,**_**" **he admitted_**"What did you have in mind, Master Hesuchazo**_"

"_**A small dagger, to conceal inside a boot,**_**"** Aries explained, eyes shining in anticipation. _**"With metal that can absorb magic**_**."**

The goblin showed him around the shop, dealing well with Aries' broken Gobbledigook as he offered various blades. Aries finally settled on one with a hilt shaped like a dragon with folded wings, mouth opening into the blade, which had flame decorations etched into it. There was no hand-guard, making it easier to slip in and out of an article of clothing, and the more hidden the weapon, the better, in Aries' opinion.

Of course, even such a small blade cost a pretty Knut coming from a goblin. And the year's lease on the Safe House had taken a fair bite out of his vault already. Now Aries knew he would have to work for that trip to South America. But that was alright; like Master Tobin had said, a Spellsmith is never without an income. And even something as simple as spell pulling was worth a lot more with the title Master next to his name.

After paying the goblin, Aries hopped to Spain's Distance Apparition point – located on a particularly strong convergence of ley lines into a Raidho formation, making international apparition both easier and easier to regulate. He arrived at a similar point in Wales and apparated again from there to the Safe House. A strong smell of potions greeted the student, and he hurried to open the windows, laughing and cursing at his absent, brew-crazy friend, who had apparently left one of his concoctions on the kitchen counter.

"_Mikta Mi_, Sev; open the window next time!" As the smell of London mixed with that of eel gut and kappa skin, Aries took a deep, satisfied breath. "It's good to be back!"

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: Now, for those of you who are freaking out (if any of you are, not like I can really tell here), no, this is not filler. Believe me, I don't do filler chapters. Also, we'll be getting back to the present fairly soon here.**

**Also also, I'm thinking of doing a quick edit of the first chapter to make it so that Harry and Draco were transported from Privet Drive during the summer, rather than Hogwarts during the school year. Let me know what you think.**

**PANTZ,**

**Emy**

**Edit 10/31/07: Alternate beginning posted as separate story, please go check it out! Ta PANTZ, Emy **


	29. Interlude

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just play here.

**Summary:** You can't teach an old monkey new tricks with pants on.

**A/N:** Yes, yes, I know, this chapter took entirely too long. Frankly, I don't have good news for you guys. There is a slim chance that one more chapter will be coming, but then I'm leaving for 18 months, so don't expect another update until at least December '09. More on this after the chapter.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 29: Interlude

Harry paused for breath, feeling as exhausted by retelling the events as he had from just living them. The wound in his hip had throbbed when he told of its origin, and even now ached more than usual. Hermione, Ron, and Professor McGonagall had fallen into a stunned silence, while Draco appeared to have fallen asleep.

"That's incredible," Hermione breathed. "I- I've read your book, when I first learned I was a witch. It wasn't your name on it – I mean, it wasn't Aries Hesuchazo…"

"I'd almost forgotten about that," Harry laughed. "Master Tobin published it under a pen name while I was at Atlantis U, since I was still a jailbird at the time. He even sent the royalties to my vault at Gringotts, so I was able to take the trip to South America with no problem. Plus a few others."

Draco snorted suddenly, something he never did while actually asleep, and Harry turned to see him with an amused look on his face.

"Oh yes, a 'few others,'" he drawled. "Do tell how you spent the twelve years of Voldemort's absence."

Harry groaned at the confused and interested looks he was receiving from his listeners.

"Well, I'd always wanted to travel the world," he offered lamely. Too lamely, apparently, as Draco decided to pick up the story line again.

"First it was South America, and while on that side of the pond he simply _couldn't_ skip North America. The next thing we know it's Australia, Japan, Russia, Tibet, one African tribe after another, not to mention the non-human races he visited. He'd always spend at least six months in one place, just to make sure he really understood what was going on. He's got a new book coming out in a couple of months called Internationalis Magicalis, a monstrous 800 page tome that is actually being called 'the foremost compendium of international and interspecial magical lore and custom' according to Scribe Scribley's Magazine."

He said all of this in such a disgusted tone that Harry was torn between sinking into the floor and hitting him. The former seemed preferable when Hermione's eyes lit up like a Weasley in a prank store.

"Holy Cricket, I read that review!" she almost squealed. "My parents said they might get it for me as a graduation present."

"Well, it's nothing that great," Harry backpedaled. "It's mostly just a compilation of my journal entries. There are a few things I couldn't include, because the people I visited asked me not to."

Hermione's eyes lit up again, and Harry cringed. How could he have forgotten that the only thing his bushy-haired friend was more passionate about than learning was the rights of magical beings?

"What about you, Ron," he said quickly, attempting to head off the millions of questions that he could feel approaching.

The redhead looked startled to be addressed.

"I…dunno mate," he finally shrugged. "I mean, it's hard to believe, but here you are. I guess you defeated You-Know-Who without us after all." Ron's bitter tone felt like a slap in the face and Harry reared back,

"Well, he's hardly defeated," he said. "I mean, he's still out there right now."

Ron hardly looked appeased, and Harry was at a loss on what to say. Luckily, McGonagall chose that moment to display the wisdom that had brought her to the esteemed post of Hogwarts' Headmistress.

"Well, I'm sure we'd all like to hear the rest of Mr. Potter's tale, but it will have to wait. The students may tend to sleep in on Hogsmead weekends, but they will not stay abed forever. Shall we meet in my office, say, 7:00 tonight? That will give us all plenty of time to rest."

"That sounds wonderful, Headmistress," Harry nodded, standing fully and stretching his bad leg a bit.

"Very well, Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, why don't you take Mr. Potter up to Gryffindor tower for the day. I'm sure he can glamour himself adequately."

"Excuse me?" Harry looked startled. "Professor, I'm sorry, perhaps I misheard you. You are aware that I can't enter Gryffindor tower, aren't you?"

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall's lips pursed into a thin line. "I assure you I paid utmost attention to your whole tale. If the mark alone were enough to keep you out, Mr. Malfoy would never have been granted entrance. Now I insist you at least try to maintain a sense of normalcy and return to the tower for what is left of the night."

Harry felt like arguing, but one look at the stubborn face of his former head of house and he knew better. As useless as a trip up to Gryffindor would be, it would be equally useless and take quite a bit more time to stand his ground against a lioness such as she.

"Fine," he conceded, stealing a significant look toward Draco as he followed the two students.

The trek up to the tower was one long awkward silence. Harry couldn't think of a thing to say to his friends that wouldn't widen the already deep chasm between them, and he had a feeling Hermione and Ron were having trouble wrapping their minds around the whole situation. After all, to their point of view, he hadn't been gone but a few hours. Worse, though, the half-dozen flights of stairs were murder on his already aching hip. About the only thing that would let him sleep tonight would be one of Sev's special formula pain potions.

Maybe Charles had an extra one lying around.

The Pink Lady was bleary-eyed, but awake when they arrived. She barely looked at them as she yawned delicately behind one hand.

"Paaaaa-aaaaassword?" she asked.

"Bumble-mumps," Hermione enunciated.

Rather than opening, the portrait lady came fully awake with a start.

"Oh, my, that hasn't happened in a while," she muttered, then looked more closely at Harry, who reapplied his familiar face. "Oh, dear, you know you can't come in here."

"But Professor McGonagall said that it wasn't the mark –" Hermione protested.

"I'm afraid I don't know anything about marks, my dear," the Pink Lady interrupted gently. "But it's my job to detect the taint of dark magic. Only a fresh spell can stop me from opening, and this poor lad's been using it this very night, he has."

"Thank you for your time," Aries bowed low, "I apologize for disturbing you again with my presence." Without another word, he turned and stalked off. He could feel the astonished gazes of his young friends on his back, but did not turn to meet them, and they did not come after him.

Just before he turned the corner, he could hear the portrait say.

"Poor young man, he's always so _polite_ about it too."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Charles took the gently whistling kettle off the range, deftly pouring hot water into his antique teapot and readying two cups. McGonagall may have been Dumbledore's inheritor, but even the ancient headmaster hadn't known as much about the school as Aries did. If a Master Spellsmith, particularly one who had personally done ward work on the castle, said he couldn't enter a particular room, then he bloody well couldn't.

Not to mention how very embarrassing it would be to be called a dark wizard right in front of his two former best friends. Or were they current best friends now? The redhead – for he had quickly reverted to his more familiar guise – shook his head, dismissing the inane thoughts. The Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger he knew as Defense teacher were rowdy, over-eager, and eminently childish. They would suit Aries like a glove.

Sure enough, Charles had no sooner settled down at his desk with one cup of tea than the door to his quarters burst open and Aries stormed in, grabbing the other cup off the tray and settling down with unnecessary dramatics in his favorite armchair. Charles shook his head in amusement and stood.

"Gryffindors," he commented in the most aggravated voice he could muster, throwing himself down on the couch.

Aries snorted and cracked a weak smile.

"Come off it," the redhead cajoled. "They'll be alright."

"Charles, I was just called a dark wizard, by a _portrait_ no less, in front of them," Aries complained. "Do you really think they'll listen with an open mind to the _next_ part of the story? Killing the McKinnon's dog is child's play compared to the atrocities I've committed since the Dark Lord's return."

"They have to grow up sometime, Aries," Charles commented quietly.

"But why now?" Aries demanded standing up. "Cor, they're so _young_. I remember being that age, I felt so grown up, thought I'd seen evil and felt pain and suffering. But I look at them now and I feel like they don't know _anything_."

"They know more than you think." Charles walked to his desk and pulled out a folder. "I don't know if you recall, but I held Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger each back at the end of class two days ago. I wanted to talk to them individually about their plans."

"And they _told_ you?" Aries demanded, eyes going wide. The redhead shrugged.

"Well, I may have added a bit of truth serum to their tea, and a few subtle coercion charms aimed at my own trustworthiness," he admitted. "In any case, did you know that Ms. Granger has been researching coercion and memory charms herself? And Mr. Weasley has learned how to disguise the ghoul in his attic – no mean feat, I promise you."

Aries finished the last of his tea.

"So what?" he muttered into the cup.

"So," the defense teacher pushed, "the two of them have promised that, on the day you decide to leave Hogwarts, Ron will disguise the ghoul as himself with a bad case of dragon pox, and Hermione will remove herself from her parents' memory and send them to Australia; all so that they can accompany you."

The Death Eater stared glumly at the dregs of his tea. He could see a star broken in two and what looked like a mangled carrot. Vague memories came to him, from what could only have been a year or so previous in the proper timeline; he and Ron gleefully making up morbid meanings for the shapes of their tea leaves.

As he watched, the cup blurred and swam in his vision, and a single drop fell, splattering the carrot.

"They'll hate me," Aries whispered.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Ron shrugged off Hermione's attempts to set him down by the fire so they could talk. He was so tired – physically and mentally – that he was sure he would be asleep before his head hit the pillow. As it turned out, though, his head hit the pillow, and he stared at the ceiling, thoughts chasing each other like Quidditch players in his head.

He thought he'd gotten used to being best friends with Harry Potter. Thought that, after Dumbledore died, the fight would be pretty straightforward – him, Harry and Hermione finding and destroying each Horcrux until Old Moldy was dead. But he should have known that, with Harry, a bloke had to expect the unexpected.

Still, in this case, 'unexpected' was putting it mildly.

Ron could count on one hand the ways this older Harry reminded him of his best friend. His Harry was gung-ho, never backed down from a fight, and never let a stinking Slytherin tell him what to do. This grown-up Harry was laid back, had been avoiding his fight for twenty years, and clearly relied on advice from not just one but _two_ Slytherins;_ Death Eaters_ no less! His Harry had once, in grief-driven anguish, attempted the Cruciatus curse and failed; this Aries Hesuchazo had murdered innocents. His Harry wouldn't even use dark magic in a duel; this stranger had used it _this very night_.

The fiery redhead turned over restlessly and his eyes lit on Harry's trunk. Quickly, not allowing himself to think twice about it, he jumped out of bed and started rummaging inside. Within seconds, Ron's hand clasped around an old, well-creased piece of parchment.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he whispered, waiting impatiently for the spindly lines of ink to form the familiar map.

Here was his own name, there was Hermione's; the Headmistress was pacing in her office. It took him a few moments to find the defense professor's personal quarters, as he expected it to be much closer to the classroom, rather than two floors up and half a wing over, but there they were, their dots nauseatingly close together:

Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy.

But then the names flickered, fading in and out, as if the map itself couldn't decide who they were.

Harries Hesuchotter, Ariery Pottzo, Aries Hesupotter, Harry Posuchazo.

The dizzying display continued until Ron could feel his eyes crossing – or perhaps that was from tiredness – and decided to go back to bed. He fell asleep with a frustrated frown that stayed through the night.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Unknown to his young friend, Aries was having an even worse time getting to sleep. He had much experience going without sleep, sometimes for many days at a time – and once as long as three weeks, though the resulting fire convinced him not to try it again - and was nowhere near tired enough for exhaustion to overcome his own troubling thoughts.

Instead of thinking about the parts of his story he had yet to tell, the time traveler was dwelling on the same event that he always returned to, whenever he gave himself a moment to think. It was the one secret he had kept from Charles, and that he never intended to reveal, if he could help it. A secret that he had been running from for the last sixteen years.

His hip throbbed again, and he thought he could almost pretend it was because of Charles' uncomfortable couch, if it weren't for the anxiety keeping him awake. The fear that he would soon lose three of his best friends; the certainty that someday he would lose them, in order to win the war.

As if a dementor were near, Aries' thoughts were inexorably drawn to the memory that had replaced that of his mother's death as worst. Only a handful of the most evil wizards had ever created a Horcrux, and fewer still had written down any findings. Only one wizard had ever made a Horcrux out of a living creature, so there was no instruction manual, no warning label, no frame of reference at all.

Still, Aries knew what had happened the night his parents died. Had felt it in the depths of his own soul.

And he knew what, in the end, would have to be done. A part of him felt it would be easier if his friends hated him; so he wouldn't have to say goodbye.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The next morning – well, early afternoon – found Aries rummaging through Charles' potions cabinet. He desperately needed a headache cure, preferably one made by Severus, but at this point he would take anything.

"Burn paste, Upperton's cut-ease, doxy antivenin," he listed as he pulled out various bottles. "Why does he need doxy antivenin?"

"Just in case my practical lesson on doxies gets as out of control as Lockhart's did," Charles answered right behind him. The redhead raised a concerned eyebrow when Aries jumped and twisted around to face him. "Are you doing alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," the brunet lied. "Just got a bit of a headache is all. D'you have one of Sev's potions laying around?"

Charles wasn't buying it – taking one of Sev's potions for a 'bit of a headache' would be like using basilisk antivenin on a doxy bite – but he would let it slide. If Aries was feeling bad enough to not notice when someone was coming up behind him, the last thing he would need would be a heart-to-heart.

"I always keep some around, but you won't find it in a cupboard," he answered. "Here, I keep it in a lockbox in my bedroom."

"I thought these quarters were secure?" Aries demanded worriedly, looking almost wildly around the halls as Charles led him by the elbow.

"They are as secure as any other room in Hogwarts," the redhead assured him. "But I'm sure you remember just how many of _those_ you managed to get into as a student. The last thing I need is some over-curious child overdosing and wasting my personal supply."

The lockbox was safely tucked away in a drawer of Charles' bureau, and in no time at all he had retrieved the correct potion and Aries had taken the full dose. It was always interesting to watch someone take that particular potion; specifically formulated to counter the severe migraines that resulted from overexposure to the Cruciatus curse, it was a little more than twice the recommended intensity of apothecary potions. It also had a bizarre – and thankfully temporary – side-effect of aquamarine polka-dots. As Aries' face relaxed into an expression of sheer relief, the blue spots blossomed, then slowly faded away.

Sev maintained that the side-effect was caused by an unavoidable reaction between the holly berries and the unicorn hair, but Charles privately thought that the potion master could have easily done away with it if it weren't so entertaining.

"Ready to face the day?" the redhead asked. "We should be just in time to catch the end of lunch in the Great Hall. You can finally see what the view is like from the staff table."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Severus stalked up and down the dissatisfyingly short corridors of his small muggle home. White hot fury surged through him every time he tried to calm down, as he remembered anew the betrayal of the previous night. He hadn't slept, trying instead to distract himself with potions, but even that proved disastrous. Far too many items in his lab had been gifted to him by Aries; all he'd ended up with were three ruined cauldrons, a lab full of poisonous fumes, and a new source of frustration.

If there was one thing the potions master prided himself on, it was his personal control, the mental acuity that had enabled him to master Occlumency during a time of war. Now, however, he felt that he would have to Obliviate himself in order to ever occlude again. His thoughts were in a state of ever-increasing turmoil, particularly as he recalled what had occurred after disapparating from the Forbidden Forest.

As if finding out his best friend and one true ally was actually that miserable Potter brat hadn't been bad enough, Severus had almost gotten himself killed before he realized that neither Voldemort nor the other Death Eaters had any recollection of the event at all. Of course, it wasn't hard to piece together – Aries had used his Master's Forgetfulness Ward several times before, and had given Severus a Voodoo charm against memory-alteration for his last birthday – but a little warning would have been appreciated!

Or, barring that, perhaps _telling the truth from the start!_

Severus impulsively grabbed his small reading lamp and dashed it against the wall, immediately repairing it, summoning it, and throwing it again, imagining Potter's face instead of the faux-wood façade.

Oh, that brat was going to pay.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**! IMPORTANT! **

**Author's Note: I am about to leave on an LDS mission – meaning I will be completely away from all internet/computer access for 18 months. Please do not leave reviews asking when the next chapter is coming until December 2009 (other reviews are acceptable, and I will read them when I get back.**

**I realize this is very bad news for those of you who have faithfully supported me by reading and enjoying this story, but your patience can and will be rewarded when I return.**

**Thank you for all your love and appreciation.**

**PANTZ,**

**Emy**


	30. Back in Business

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary (For real this time):** Shortly after the start of Harry's 7th year (canon through HBP), Harry and a Death Eater don't-wanna-be Draco get sent back in time 20 years. They take on the fake identities of Aries Hesuchazo and Charles Higgins III. Charles befriends James Potter and his group, while Aries, to avoid trying to change the future/past, deliberately ostracizes himself by befriending Snape. Aries finds out that Snape's not that bad and, in order to more effectively remain under the radar, becomes a Death Eater. Charles gets a job with the Ministry of Magic.

After the first defeat of Voldemort, Aries is captured and thrown into Azkaban, where he is freed by his Spellsmith Master, Tobin Kon. Master Tobin, who is aware of Aries' true identity as Harry Potter, sends his former apprentice to Atlantis University to get him out of the country. After graduating with a doctorate in Defensive Methods, Aries spends the next decade or so travelling and compiling the knowledge of other races into a book. Oh, and looking for ways to defeat Voldemort, he does that too.

When time comes full circle, Aries and Charles reveal themselves to Voldemort and the other Death Eaters (including Snape), but do it behind a Forgetfulness Ward, so Voldemort and the other Death Eaters (except Snape, who had a charm against obliviation) don't remember it. The two time-travelers then go inside, where they meet up with Headmistress McGonagall, Ron, and Hermione, and Aries tells the story of what all happened in the past 20 years. Snape, meanwhile, plans various forms of revenge in anger at having been tricked by another Potter.

When we last left them, Aries had taken a break from his storytelling so they could all sleep. After being kicked out of Gryffindor tower for Dark Magic (again), Aries went down to Charles' quarters (oh, did I mention he's defense professor?), potioned himself into oblivion, and slept through lunch.

**A/N: **Well, I'm back, with a chapter in tow. I had a wonderful time on my mission. For those who asked, LDS is extreme shorthand for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, more commonly known by the nickname Mormon. I spent 18 months teaching people about Christ, had a wonderful time, and now have returned to the 'real' world. Thank you for all the support and patience you have shown me while I've been away (catching up on my reviews was a major ego-trip, just so you know). And now, on to the story:

Chapter 30: Back in Business

Aries arranged for Charles to cover for his absence at dinner. He had a long awaited errand to run, and an experiment that he would much rather be conducted in private. With his double out of the way, his whole body thrummed with magic, and he dearly wanted to try on his old form, but images of Hermione in the hospital wing after the Polyjuice incident had thus far inhibited him from trying it with anyone around.

A few straggling students wandering the halls eyed him with the unabashed curiosity of youth, and Aries nodded politely in greeting as he passed. None were, as of yet, whispering about the missing Chosen One, despite McGonagall's worries. Between the fact that he hadn't missed any classes yet and that Ron and Hermione had also been gone from the dorms all night, none of the students suspected anything but a usual Golden Trio adventure.

Muggles were not the only ones who could not see what was before their faces.

The corridor beside the Prefects' bathroom seemed deserted enough, but Aries wasn't taking any chances. He didn't have the faintest idea what the password was, but he knew someone who did. Relaxing the barriers on his mind, Aries shifted into Magic Sight and passed his hands through the ward threads like boughs of a weeping willow. The presence, the insistent homey-ness that was Hogwarts touched his consciousness. Aries struggled not to flinch back, vividly remembering the pain of having that presence forcefully drained from him.

Hogwarts did not speak, not with words, but the subtle scents of magic told of open arms and a relieved welcome. Aries communicated similarly his desire to enter the bathroom. Without the slightest resistance, the portrait swung gently open.

It hadn't changed a bit. Not since his seventh year, so long in the past, and not since his fourth year, the last time he had been here. As soon as the portrait closed behind him, the Spellsmith cast a few privacy spells, including a banishing charm for ghosts and a revealing spell for animagi. Neither produced so much as a magical peep, and the spy let out a soft sigh allowing Hogwarts to sooth him into a feeling of safety for the first time in many, many years.

"Alright, Cloak," he spoke to the empty room. "It's been a long time, but I think it's time you came back, you mangy cat."

One breath, two. Nothing happened. Aries flexed his magic, trying to remember how it had felt, like pushing and pulling a door while putting on a jumper all at the same time. One more breath, then there was a _pop_ and the Prefect's bathroom was much bigger.

Baring one fang in a kitty smirk, Aries stretched his front legs, gently scraping his claws across the stone floor. The liquid tension of feline muscles pleased him and he loped a few steps forward, pleased to find no catch in his hip. Cat legs were positioned differently in the hip joint, he knew, so he could probably move freely in this form.

A thought to Hogwarts, and the portrait swung open again. Cloak bounded out, deciding to take the long way to the Room of Requirement. There was one more crucial task to complete.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Remus walked slowly through the halls of Hogwarts, his heart heavy. The old castle had lost much of its feel of security for him, with Dumbledore's death. This reenactment of the war was rapidly regressing to the lowest points of the first go around. The ministry had come within a hair's breadth of falling under Voldemort's control, in the guise of an Imperiused ministry employee and an attempted assassination of Minister Scrimgeour.

It was frankly a miracle they'd been able to head them off, temporarily replacing Scrimgeour with a transfigured armchair, thanks to Minerva's talents. Without Snape's information, they never would have known in time. Thank goodness for Charles' anonymous informant. If the ministry were to slip into Voldemort's hands, Hogwarts would quickly follow, and the last refuge would cease to exist.

Shaking off such morbid thoughts, the werewolf rounded a corner and stopped short, catching motion out of the corner of his eye. A black cat, two flights above him, bounded up the stairs toward the seventh floor. At first Remus shrugged it off, there were many cats in Hogwarts, after all. But, upon reaching the floor the cat had just left, his sensitive nose caught a whiff of the cat's scent. Again, he stopped short, this time heart beating painfully hard.

"Cloak," he whispered.

The cat, from so many years ago. A single encounter in the hospital wing, and then the feline had disappeared from Hogwarts, never seen by a Marauder again. It had turned up two years later, in the weeks before Harry's birth, then vanished again. And now, here at Hogwarts again, when Minerva had just called a meeting of the Order of the Phoenix. There was definitely something else to that cat, Remus could feel it in his bones.

Without another thought, the werewolf turned and followed the cat's trail up to the seventh floor.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries was fairly certain that most cats would not be able to activate the Room of Requirement. But then, he was both an animagus, and deeply connected to Hogwarts at the moment. Three paces, back and forth, and a door appeared. A pleading thought, and it opened, shutting behind him.

The Spellsmith shifted back to his human form as soon as the door latched. He would need two hands and a wand for this task. Hesitantly, he looked around the room. A thousand years of discarded, likely dangerous, artifacts, all collected in one place by the simple wish "I need someplace to hide this".

Memories flooded his thoughts as he wandered, slowly, through the aisles. There was the cupboard where he'd hidden Sev's potions manual. Over here, the vanishing cabinet through which Draco had conjured an army of Death Eaters. Painful memories, but distance almost made them…fond, in a way. Reminders of another life. But Aries was searching for more than memories, today.

There, perched ridiculously on the head of a mannequin, was the crown, the diadem of Ravenclaw.

_The wards nearest the Forbidden Forest seemed to have leeched a bit of Dark magic into them somehow. Adjusting the focus on the scale model of Hogwars, Aries looked more closely at that spot. He knew the Forbidden Forest was Dark, but had never really had any occasion to study it. Now that it was laid out before him with perfect detail, he found himself curious. After all, how did a place end up tainted with Dark magic, anyway? And to such an extent as the forest? _

_From all he'd read about Dark magic, it just didn't make sense. Dark magic wasn't like runic magic – it wasn't something that could come about by accident or coincidence, something created naturally by the flow of magic in the world itself. In fact, Dark magic was by its very definition unnatural. But places like the Forbidden Forest – places haunted by no spirits, but by a heavy feeling of infection, of contamination – were so common…_

_The Spellsmith followed threads of brown, crimson, and olive-colored magic down the wards into the scraggly canopy of the forest, seeking some source. Some answer to his confusion. He could tell that something was behind this pool of Dark, deep magic, and if he could just look a little further, maybe he could find it._

_ Outside, deep in that same forest, something throbbed in response, and the Headmaster's office was suddenly filled with a blinding light._

Knowledge had poured into him, understanding about the history of the Forest itself and its many inhabitants. Aries had never shared with anyone how he came by that knowledge, and it had taken years before he had a chance to seek out the source again.

_Gryffindor and Slytherin were playing each other in the school Quidditch finals. The two teams were ranked closer than they had been in decades, and the Gryffindor's reserve seeker, Charlie Weasley (just a second year, at that!) was playing, due to Padwick Acey's injuries. He could hear the cheering from here. A thousand Hogwarts students, and at least as many spectators. In comparison, the Forbbidden Forest was almost eerily silent. Both Lucius and Severus had invited him to watch the game with them, but Aries had declined, claiming a former engagement._

_ In a way, it was the truth. He had put off this particular investigation until the Death Eater scares had become a thing of memory and Hogwarts' security had grown lax again. This way, there would be no interruptions, as everyone would be quite focused on the game._

_ Besides, if memory served, he knew mostly where to look. Magic Sight fixed on the glowing ward threads, Aries searched for the thin, purple line that would lead him to his prize. He walked slowly, quietly, ears attuned to any sounds of danger – a chattering of spider feet, a werewolf howl…_

_ Or the steady beat of centaur hooves._

_ "Please not Bane, please not Bane," he whispered, cringing._

_ "Human," a curious, if demanding voice broke the forest quiet. Aries sighed in relief._

_ "Ah, Firenze, the stars are gracious," he said, turning to face the centaur._

_ "You have the advantage of me, it would seem," Firenze replied, suddenly wary. "Who are you?"_

_ "My name is Aries, and I am like you – bound by unwavering destiny, but determined to do the best within the sphere of influence I have been given."_

_ The centaur studied him closely, then looked up at the sky._

_ "Mars is bright tonight."_

_ "I know."_

_ "Be careful, human."_

_ Aries nodded, and Firenze plodded away, soon disappearing from view and returning the Forest to oppressive silence. The Spellsmith paused a moment, then turned sharply back to the wards._

_ "Now, where are you?" he muttered to himself, slipping back into Magic Sight._

_ Protective wards, shield wards, barrier wards, insect-repellant wards, remnants of levitation charms, there! More thin and faded than Aries had expected, the purple thread still vibrated with memory magic. Aries traced the line deeper into the forest, to the roots of a very tall, very old tree. Frowning in concentration, the Spellsmith gently used a root-detangling spell from a vaguely-remembered third year Herbology class. Slowly, creaking and groaning in protest, the roots stretched and opened enough to allow him to look inside, around, and in between._

_ "Come out, come out wherever you are," he whispered, getting down on hands and knees._

_ Two of the roots had grown together near the top, at the base of the trunk. Aries tapped the roots, coaxing them to open as well, and was gratified to hear something fall with a muffled 'thud' to the moist soil below. The Spellsmith groped around for it in the dirt, feeling the vibrations of ancient magic as his hand bumped against something hard._

_ "I didn't expect you to be quite this small," he commented, holding the small blue gem, no bigger than a fingernail, up to eye level. "Now, how to uncover your secrets."_

_ He carefully sat back up and pushed himself to his feet, his bad hip creaking in the cold, damp air._

_ Legillimency, his first attempt, didn't work._

_ Neither did Severus' whole "Reveal your secrets!" trick. Frankly, Aries wasn't sure if that would ever work._

_ He thought back to his experience with the Reddo Vegrandis. He had seen the thread of Dark Magic, memory magic, and all he had done was touch it and wonder about the Forbidden Forest._

_ Patiently, Aries cleared his mind and, staring at the crystalline facets of the gem, allowed a gentle curiosity to well up._

_ "Where did you come from?" he asked softly, wonderingly, and the gem sparkled as if reflecting a non-existent light source._

_ It started slowly, but soon images and words were flooding into his mind. Memories not his own. A view of Hogwarts half-built, and the blue stone on the crown of a tall, regal woman. Suddenly, the crown was in the hands of a much younger woman, looking around in fear, running through the Forbidden Forest. A struggle, a violent death, the crown was buried, the stone falling a few feet away. The forest grew and changed. Centuries passed by. Then a young man with dark hair, a pale face, and red eyes crouched down, brushed away the loamy soil, and retrieved the crown._

_ Time seemed to freeze for an instant as Aries looked at the glittering circlet. It seemed so familiar. From the annals of his own mind, the gem drew forth an image from his sixth year; a potions book he needed to get rid of, the Room of Requirement, "I need a place to hide this," a vast room with thousands of precious artifacts._

_ And there, in a corner, on top of a mannequin, was the crown. No, the Diadem of Ravenclaw._

_ Aries wrenched his eyes away from the gem. There it was! He had it!_

– _Wait. He couldn't have it. He had to wait until after his sixth year, because if Harry never saw it, then he wouldn't be able to remember it._

_Stupid time-space continuum._

An older Aries smiled. He had been so frustrated, had locked the gem in the deepest drawer of his old school trunk, with all the reminders of his old self and endeavored not to think of it again. He had mostly succeeded, too; had, in fact, barely thought about the War at all during the years of respite. Until he had returned from a stay with the Dwarves to find a letter from Arion. Even now, three and a half years later, he could practically recite the whole missive.

"_Dear Aries,_

_ I do hope this letter finds you well. My forest is still peaceful as of the time I write this, but I fear times of peace will soon exist in memory for us all. You were never one to pay attention to the stars, but as a friend, I feel I must warn you. Mars grows brighter still, and Jupiter approaches. Ill portents._

_ Sty safe, my friend. Your back is strong and your heart good. Contact me if I and my herd can help you, and I will write again for the same. Clean manes._

_Boxwood clan, Arion._

Although the letter had lacked any specific warnings, it had been enough to make Aries look at a calendar again. Mid May, 1995. He'd had only a few weeks to prepare for the Dark Lord's return. Still, it was his own fault for trying to hide from the inevitable.

But that was then and here was now (for the first time in a long time), and Aries was staring face to tiara with one of the last Horcruxes. Careful not to touch it with his bare skin, though he doubted Voldemort had cursed this particular artifact, not expecting anyone to ever find it, the Spellsmith dropped the diadem into his robe pocket. With a satisfied smirk, he turned on his heel and walked back to the door, opening it and coming face to face with a very shocked werewolf.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

After dinner, Hermione and Ron determinedly made their way up to the Headmistress' office. Neither of them knew what the situation would be at the end of the story, but they both knew they were going to meet it head on.

"Ogham," was the prefects' password, and Ron now understood a bit more about what that meant. Hermione thought it very ironic indeed, since she herself had chosen it, after that month's topic in Ancient Runes. An image of the word "Shame" spelled out in the tree-like symbols flashed before her mind and she felt her breath catch.

"Alright there, Hermione?" Ron asked quietly as the gargoyle jumped out of the way.

"I'm fine, Ron," she said, trying to make herself believe it was true.

"Ron, Hermione!"

The shout behind them stopped the two students' progress as they were about to enter the stairwell. They looked back, only to see Remus Lupin levitating someone – bound head to toe with strong cords until he looked almost like a mummy – along behind him.

"Out of the way, you two," the former defense teacher commanded. "And stay back. He's dangerous, very dangerous."

"Umm, but…" Hermione started to object, but Remus didn't even slow down. The werewolf ran right past them, loping up the stairs two at a time.

After a moment's hesitation, the two Gryffindors followed him. They could hear the sounds from the top of the moving staircase long before they reached the top. The heavy wooden door banged open.

"Minerva," Remus almost shouted. "It seems the castle is still not secure. I found another Death Eater sneaking out of the Room of Requirement. I thought we had re-spelled things sufficiently."

"My goodness, I thought we had too," Headmistress McGonagall replied, calmer, but clearly distressed. "Thank Merlin you found them before they had a chance to come across one of the students. Any idea who it is?"

"I know exactly who it is," the werewolf had a growl to his voice. "A former Gryffindor, and apparently an animagus – I have reason to suspect he was spying on James and Lily before Harry was born, as well."

"Well don't leave us all in suspense," Professor Higgins drawled. "At least unbind his head so we can see the wretch."

The circular stairs reached the top then, and Ron and Hermione peaked through the doorway, past Remus' back, to see a few of the magical ropes unwind, revealing Aries' brunet queue and unhappy face.

"Ah, oh, er…" McGonagall stammered uncharacteristically, sounding like she might be about to laugh.

"You remember Hesuchazo, don't you Charles?" Remus pressed. "Just a matter of weeks after we were out of Hogwarts and there he was, warding You-Know-Who's own personal dungeon. Slimy Death Eater was probably still sleeping in the dorms when he was marked."

Hermione was tempted to rush in there and defend Harry, but wasn't sure how much the Headmistress intended to reveal. Ron was also still, unusually watchful, wanting to see how this turned out.

"I can only guess at how you two managed to run into each other," said McGonagall, now sounding distinctly amused. "But as it brought both of you to my office at the appointed time, I suppose I cannot be too terribly displeased. Now, Mr. Hesuchazo, if you wouldn't mind letting Remus in on our little secret so we can proceed?"

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries very much _did_ mind. This wasn't at _all_ how he'd intended to tell Remus the truth. Trust Minerva to have inherited Dumbledore's mantel of meddling on top of everything else. Well, there was nothing for it. Remus had cast _silencio_ on him, so Aries couldn't very well break things to him gently. So, with an inaudible sigh, the Spellsmith released his Occlumency barrier for a moment, letting his disguise slip away.

"J-James?" Remus stuttered. "What…"

"No, you dimwit," Charles sneered impatiently, reaching over and lifting Aries' fringe away from his forehead.

"Harry," the werewolf whispered, falling to his knees. "Oh sweet Merlin."

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: Don't kill me, please! I swear I'll update soon, really I will. You won't have to wait a year and a half for this one, I guarantee it!**

**Tell me what you think, if you have a moment to spare.**

**PANTZ,**

**Emerson**


	31. Reveal Your Secrets

**Disclaimer:** Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary:** Now really, a prehensile tail can't pick even a monkey's nose.

**A/N: **Merry Christmas! Don't say I never got you anything.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 31: Reveal Your Secrets

_With an inaudible sigh, the Spellsmith released his Occlumency barrier for a moment, letting his disguise slip away._

_ "J-James?" Remus stuttered. "What…"_

_ "No, you dimwit," Charles sneered impatiently, reaching over and lifting Aries' fringe away from his forehead._

_ "Harry," the werewolf whispered, falling to his knees. "Oh sweet Merlin."_

In one fluid motion, Remus had banished another layer of cords and ripped Harry's left sleeve to the elbow, baring the Dark Mark to the world. A quiet as heavy as a silencing charm spread throughout the office. The portraits no longer feigned sleep, but sat up, staring. Everyone was staring.

Harry closed his eyes, waiting for the other shoe to fall. He wished someone would take the Merlin-cursed spell off him.

"You were the contact, then?" Remus' voice was hardly more than a whisper. "Charles' anonymous spy. But that means…" The werewolf trailed off, and Aries opened his eyes to see Remus' gaze move up to examine Charles' face. "Who are you?"

The Defense professor turned, annoyed, to Minerva.

"You know, this is really quite rude," he said. "Convoluted as the situation may be, our secrets are still ours to keep as we see fit. After all, you still haven't told us how you came to be aware of the mix-up."

Remus was still staring, eyes narrowed, with a thoughtful look. A look that brought Aries back to his third year, a dilapidated shack, and a defense professor who had figured out years of lies and deception in a matter of seconds.

Merlin's bogies on a stick, at this rate they wouldn't _have _to tell him anything.

Charles and Minerva were having a little battle of wills, the former full of the same pompous confidence and assurance that he would get his way that had so irked young Harry; the latter simply full of Gryffindor bullheadedness and a touch of self-righteousness. The ex-auror won, and Minerva let out a small, disgruntled sniff.

"Very well," the old cat conceded. "But let us wait a moment longer, there are a few other Order members I asked to come, and we should wait until they get here."

Aries glared at her. He couldn't bear to tell the whole story over from the beginning; frankly, he didn't have time! After all, he had to be at the Safe House tomorrow to explain things to Severus, to try to patch things up. The spy couldn't leave his friend hanging, not now. And besides, as Charles had pointed out, their secrets were _theirs_. The weight of the diadem in his pocket felt conspicuous and out of place; he had hoped to hide it in Charles' rooms before coming to the Headmistress' office. Blast it all, couldn't the woman leave well enough alone?

As fortune would have it, Remus picked that moment to remove the silencing spell and vanish the rest of the ropes.

"How dare you?" he hissed, standing upright. "I have half a mind to walk out of this office right now without telling you anything. Who exactly did you invite?"

"Now, Mr. Potter," Minerva began, sounding unjustly put-upon.

"Who. Did. You. Invite," Aries interrupted her.

"Calm yourself," the Headmistress ordered. "I simply invited Remus here, Arthur Weasley, Nymphadora Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. They are the most directly involved here."

Aries' eyes narrowed. Remus and Arthur he could understand – Remus had been in school with them, and Arthur had mentored Charles during his first years in the Ministry (not to mention being Ron's father) – but what did Tonks and Shacklebolt have to do with anything?

"Shacklebolt was a rookie Auror back when the war first ended," Charles explained, anticipating his friend's question. "He was one of the grunts used to bring in suspected Death Eaters, and so one of the only ones to remember a journeyman Spellsmith who got away. Since the return of Voldemort he's been…asking questions. Tonks has been trying to help him investigate you. I've been heading them off every chance I get, but if left alone, they'll keep at it like a dog with a bone."

The redhead's words were hardly comforting, but there was an undertone that Aries could read in Charles' face. Soothing him, trying to calm him down, curb his temper. A glance in the defense professor's direction and he noticed his friend looking significantly toward the door.

Minerva caught the look, too.

"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, perhaps you would like to join us?" she invited, a hint of disapproval in her voice.

As the two students shuffled in, Aries felt his face grow hot. He cursed himself soundly for forgetting that they had been just outside the entrance to the Headmistress' office. And of course, far be it for those two to stay put when trouble was a foot at Hogwarts. He was just glad he hadn't _really_ lost his temper.

"Mr. Potter. Harry." Minerva's voice was a bit gentler now that Aries had stopped glaring at her. "I can understand you feel ill-used, to have this sprung upon you, but the fact is that you hold an important part in this war. I've allowed you to keep mum on what Albus revealed to you, I have not put you under guard to make sure we know where you are, but I will not allow the Order of the Phoenix to struggle on blindly without knowing _who_ you are."

Aries understood, truly he did. He even understood those things Minerva didn't say. He knew that he could, if he so chose, walk out of this office, out of Hogwarts, unimpeded, without saying another word. However, if he did so, Minerva would simply tell the Order herself that Aries Hesuchazo was Harry Potter. Worse, having only half the story to go on, they would be left to reach their own conclusions. And if Shacklebolt had truly been investigating him, there could be some very dark conclusions indeed.

The fire flared green just then, spitting three people into the office, one after another: Shacklebolt, Tonks, and Arthur.

"Sorry we're late Minerva," the balding Weasley apologized, dusting off his robes. "Couldn't leave a job undone without people asking questions."

"It's not a problem at all," Minerva waved away his concerns. "Your timing is actually quite good, all things considered."

While Arthur had been speaking, Kingsley had moved into position, closing the door to the office and standing guard. Tonks had taken inventory of the people in the office, immediately noticed the odd person out, and came straight up to Harry.

"H'lo there, I don't believe we've met," she said cheerily, chewing gum the same color as her lime green hair and sticking out a friendly hand. "My name's Tonks."

Aries took her proffered hand and, with a bit of mischief, introduced himself.

"Harry Potter."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Severus Snape walked confidently into Malfoy Manor. And why shouldn't he? He was a loyal Death Eater, completely free of ties to both Hogwarts and the Order of the Phoenix. He was not in disgrace like Malfoy, nor under the slightest suspicion of being a spy. That was just how he liked it.

No worries about why he was being summoned so close to the failure of the last mission.

No wondering about if Potter had felt the summons as well.

No haunting memories of conversations with Dumbledore.

No. Of course not.

Entering the dimly lit dining hall, he took his place at Voldemort's left. With Lucius still recovering from his disgrace and Aries…gone…that left him one place removed from Bellatrix. Severus glanced at the empty seat where the Spellsmith should be sitting. The Dark Lord had called only his inner circle; if Aries had felt the summons, he had not heeded it.

Small conversations murmured along the table. These, the witches and wizards closest to Voldemort, were the only ones brazen to speak to each other in his presence. The only ones trusted enough to be left alive after doing so. Severus though…he simply had nothing to say.

"My friends," the snake-like wizard greeted them, and silence fell immediately. "So good to have you with me." Some of them preened, some of them trembled. "Tell me something, Lucius." The blond wizard stared hollowly at his master. "If you sent a house elf to bring you tea, and it brought you water, what would you do?"

Lucius pinked slightly, around the ears, in a way he had not done before Azkaban.

"I would discipline the miserable creature," he answered hoarsely. "Then tell it to try again."

Voldemort leaned back in his chair, long, white fingers steepled.

"Would you indeed?" he mused. "Such a gracious master, to allow a second chance. How many chances, though, until you simply…got rid of it?"

"Stick his head on the wall!" Bellatrix shrieked in delight.

Lucius seemed uncertain whether or not he should reply, but his silence went unnoticed. Severus glanced at the empty chair again, wondering how _that_ had gone unnoticed. Banishing the thought, he focused on the Dark Lord again.

"It is my goal to remove Potter from Hogwarts," Voldemort stated. No surprise there, they had known about his plan for weeks now. "I have gone to great lengths, given you all many, many tries to accomplish this. I am such a forgiving master, am I not?"

No one preened now.

"Let me illuminate your many failures. I sent Draco to kill the old fool Dumbledore. He failed, but Severus succeeded in his place, so I have forgiven the boy. With his last protector gone, surely Potter would see Hogwarts as merely a place of bad memories and leave, to follow Dumbledore's footsteps. Did he? No. So, I endeavored to steal Hogwarts right out from under him. We had our man in the ministry, and with him in place we could pick and choose the Hogwarts staff. With Severus in the Headmaster's office, Potter would have nowhere to go. So I sent you to assassinate Scrimgeour. Did you succeed?"

Utter, terrified silence.

"Like any disappointed master, I lowered my expectations. I decided if we could not get him to abandon Hogwarts completely, perhaps we could catch him outside the wards and do away with him. But have you been able to accomplish even that?"

His red eyes pierced each one of them, burning with anger, and bloodlust.

"Failure upon failure upon failure," he hissed coldly. "I am far more tolerant than I should be. No more plans, no more tricks. If you are not even intelligent enough to bring Potter to me, then we shall go to Potter. In three days, we will attack Hogwarts, with all the forces at our command. And you all," he pierced them again, "will bring me Potter, or you will not return."

He did not ask if they understood. They all did. Either Potter would die, or they would. Severus let the anger, the betrayal, grow in his heart; let his hatred for the Potter name and all it stood for fill his eyes.

"I will bring him to you, helpless and waiting for your curse, Master," he vowed. "I swear it."

Voldemort gazed at him fondly for a moment, before snapping his eyes back to the other Death Eaters. His sharp, searching stare passed one by one over his inner circle, and they all shrank back, knowing what was coming, terrified of drawing his attention. After a breathless moment, the Dark Lord chose his unfortunate subject.

"You should learn from Severus, Lucius. _Crucio_."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

If anyone noticed Harry's right eye twitch, they didn't say anything. No one knew that, while Remus had been dragging him to the Headmistress' office, his left arm had started to burn; and no one knew now that Voldemort was torturing someone. He indulged himself in a quick hope that Severus wasn't on the other end of the curse, then closed his mind to the link entirely.

Around him, Minerva's office had descended into chaos.

"Harry?!" Arthur shouted, jumping in surprise. Shacklebolt's eyes widened, confusion evident on his normally cool face.

"What happened?" Tonks exclaimed. "Are you a metamorphmagus, Harry? You look like you could be forty!"

Harry, Charles, and Remus all cringed, Remus especially. Harry vaguely remembered that he and Tonks had become an item, and that Remus had worried about being too old for her. He eyed the werewolf with amusement, but the other man turned away, refusing to look at him.

"Time travel," Remus croaked. "It was time travel, wasn't it?"

"Very astute, Remus," Minerva acknowledged.

"Hold up," Tonks turned to him. "How did you know?"

The Headmistress cleared her throat, drawing everyone's attention back to her. Minerva simply looked at them, expectant and chastising all at once, suddenly every inch the imposing professor. Those who had been standing sheepishly found a seat and waited quietly.

"If you will all simply be patient, we will explain as much as possible. Soon you will understand, so please hold any interruptions or exclamations of surprise until we are finished."

"Of course Minerva, I apologize," Arthur nodded, much calmer now the shock had worn off.

"Professor Higgins requested I explain my own involvement and knowledge of this fracas," Minerva began, "which thankfully is fairly brief, and covers much of Mr. Potter's explanation as well.

"Quite simply, I have Albus to blame, or his portrait. Late last night I was finishing up one of my many piles of paperwork, when an alarm went off in the ward system that a student had gone out of bounds, near the Quidditch pitch. That student was Harry Potter. I was fully prepared to rush off and give Mr. Potter enough detentions to last the rest of his school career, when Albus' portrait spoke up."

_"Where are you going, Minerva?" the familiar, kindly old voice asked. Minerva didn't like it when his portrait spoke, it reminded her too plainly that he was gone._

_ "Potter has left the wards," she explained curtly, and was about to leave when he spoke again._

_ "Has he now? So it was tonight, then," Albus trailed off mysteriously._

_ The Headmistress was fully intending to ignore his ramblings and retrieve Potter, but found herself instead sitting back down and giving the portrait her undivided attention._

_ "What was tonight?" she demanded. The wizened old fingers, little more than oil and brushstrokes, stroked his long, white beard._

_ "Do you remember, Minerva, two students who transferred in about twenty years ago?" he asked. "Two seventh years, Gryffindor."_

_ "Of course I 'remember'," she snorted. "Charles Higgins is now a member of the faculty, and Aries Hesuchazo is…well…no longer polite company, we'll say." Albus chuckled, amused by her euphemism. "What does this have to do with Potter, Headmaster?"_

_ "I have no way of easing you into this information, my dear," Dumbledore hesitated. "Do excuse an old man his worries, but will you promise me not to curse first and ask questions later."_

_ "I always look before I leap, Albus," Minerva promised. The portrait studied her, then nodded, apparently satisfied._

_ "I'm afraid, if Harry Potter is outside the grounds, he will quite soon find himself, in the company of Draco Malfoy, knocking on my door, asking for help, twenty years and two months before today."_

_ The Headmistress gasped, patting her heart with one hand._

_ "Then Professor Higgins is really Mr. Potter?" she asked breathlessly, hardly coherent enough to notice Albus shifting uncomfortably._

_ "Unfortunately, Minerva," he said, "it is the other way around. Harry Potter is, in fact, Aries Hesuchazo, Death Eater, and," he stopped, holding up a hand to silence her outrage, "and, he is Charles Higgins' anonymous informant. He has been spying from the day he was marked, so please do not think too ill of him, my dear."_

_ Minerva struggled to assimilate this new information. This changed absolutely everything._

_ "How long have you known?" she choked out._

_ "I only discovered it shortly before the beginning of last school year," he admitted. "Before Sirius' death, there was almost no resemblance to the time traveler I had helped so long ago. But after Harry had grieved, and grown up a little, he started to act strikingly familiar. Draco, as well; as I watched him struggle with his impossible task, I began to see the makings of Charles Higgins, as he had been at school._

_ "I must confess," he added, "the new information displeased me rather a lot. I had plans, you see. Plans that were, if I dare sound somewhat self-aggrandizing, remarkably clever. But those plans would simply not work with a twenty year time difference. So I came up with a different plan."_

_ "And what plan is that?" Minerva asked, doubting Dumbledore would answer._

_ "Quite simple, my dear: trust Harry's instincts. Now, if you hurry, I would imagine you will find the two of them returning to Hogwarts imminently."_

_ Shocked that she had lingered so long, Minerva spared only one disapproving glance at the portrait before running out of the office to the entrance hall._

"And that is where I found these two," the Headmistress gestured and Harry and Charles – the latter did not seem the least inclined to remove his glamour for this crowd.

After Minerva's story finished, there was a long pause while the newcomers absorbed the information. Tonks glanced back and forth between Harry and Remus, and the former was distinctly aware that she, more than anyone else, would be aware of his past. She had the Auror's perspective of his official records, and had probably learned a lot about his seventh year from Remus. Harry wondered how much of Remus' recollection had been tainted by Aries' 'betrayal'. The werewolf had admitted to being friends with Sirius, back when the Black scion was considered a murderer. But then, he had only been Aries' study partner for a few months.

Harry was a little surprised and dismayed to realize how much he cared what Remus thought of him. The other wizard was disturbingly quiet.

"Well, Mr. Potter," the Headmistress said, subdued. "I believe we are all familiar, now, with how you have spent your years before Voldemort's return. You may take it from here as you see fit."

The Spellsmith leaned forward, fighting the urge to rub his scar, or his mark, or both. His mind wandering with thoughts of Severus and this unscheduled Death Eater meeting, he began his story again.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries leaned against the kitchen counter in his and Charles' flat, listening to the WWN broadcast of the Tri-Wizard tournament. It started with a recap of the first two tasks, and Aries was quite amused to hear how this particular announcer seemed to emphasize young Harry's supposed chivalry, bravery, nobility, and cleverness. Little did he know Harry had been gifted the answers to his tasks by a Death Eater in the guise of one of his professors. Given that ignorance, Aries supposed Harry did seem fairly extraordinary.

"Because of point totals, Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory will be starting first. Their astounding performances in the first tasks have earned them a thirty second head start, after which Victor Krum of Durmstrang will follow. Then, bringing up the rear, Fleur Delacour of Beauxbatons. Ah, here come our first contenders now, and they're off! Potter takes a left fork, while Diggory goes to the right…"

Aries tuned out the voice, lost now in memories. The third task had truly been grueling, but the obstacles put in place for the tournament were truly child's play compared to what would come after. A boggart, a sphinx, even a Blast-Ended Skrewt and an Acromantula; none of them could hold a candle to the awful Dark ritual of Voldemort's resurrection.

Breathing deep, the time traveler Occluded his mind, carefully pushing to the fore his Death Eater persona. Exaggerated hatred of Muggles, Dumbledore, Harry Potter; he needed to remodel his mind, in short. It had been so long, too long, and he had grown dangerously complacent.

His wand hand shook, ever so slightly, as he turned off the wireless set. He needed to calm down, to clear his mind, to erase every shred of Harry Potter from his thoughts. Aries decided to use a simple exercise that had helped him focus when he was having a hard time studying, back in his Uni days.

"The Hierarchy of Blood is as follows," he murmured aloud. "Unwilling sacrifice of a mated male. Unwilling sacrifice of an unmated male. Unwilling sacrifice of a mated female. Willing sacrifice of a mated male. Unwilling sacrifice of an unmated male. Unwilling sacrifice of a pregnant female. Unwilling sacrifice of an unmated female. Willing sacrifice of a mated female. Willing sacrifice of a pregnant female. Willing sacrifice of an unmated female. Willing sacrifice of self. Willing is always higher than unwilling; female than male; for unwilling, malice is usually higher than indifferent, except in the case of pregnant females; for willing, desire is always higher than coercion."

The litany of dry, undisputed magical facts, drawn from Dark magic texts, helped him shift his state of mind. Gone was the anxious man with a prophecy on his shoulders, gradually, he returned to Aries Hesuchazo, Spellsmith and Death Eater.

When his mark started to burn, he was ready.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: First of all, I'd really like to thank all the wonderful people who reviewed the last chapter. I really enjoyed waking up with so many alerts in my inbox. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas (or any other holiday you may choose to observe), and I'll see you after New Years!**

**PANTZ,**

**Emy**


	32. The Graveyard

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary: **Monkey cereal is bananalicious!

**A/N: **Woohoo! Another chapter finished, and just before the new semester! This one was unusually hard, as we delve into the murky waters of quoting from canon (bleh). If you can't figure out which parts came from the original books, then I'm doing a better job than I thought, but that's still kinda sad for you, don't you think? I mean, here you are, calling yourself a fan, reading _fan_fiction, and you can't even pick out canon? Tsk tsk, reader. Tsk tsk.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 32: The Graveyard

Aries had a vague impression of well-groomed lawn and rows of tombstones before his attention focused entirely on the wizard before him. If you could call him that. Voldemort's new body was the stuff of nightmares.

"Master…master," he whispered worshipfully, crawling on his knees to kiss the Dark Lord's robe. The other Death Eaters followed suit, retreating afterward to form a circle around the dark wizard.

Voldemort paced around the circle, condemning and cursing any wizards who caught his eye. Wormtail must have given him information on as many Death Eaters as he could, making the Spellsmith quite glad he had remained firmly under the radar in Britain. Lucius bore the brunt of his master's anger. It struck Aries as fairly ironic that the Dark Lord, who lauded Slytherin as the only house worth belonging to, preferred his servants to be fanatically loyal, rather than self-serving.

Aries paid only minimal attention to Voldemort's diatribe – bombastic as it was, he found it far simpler to simply ignore it. Besides, his younger self would soon repeat it, almost word for word, for Dumbledore. So he focused on keeping his gaze attentive and respectful, while tuning his master out completely.

He was just starting to relax – Voldemort had taken no special notice of him, after all – when the Dark Lord suddenly focused his attention on Harry. He moved slowly toward the boy and raised his wand.

"_Crucio_!"

Harry screamed, even around his gag, eyes rolling madly in his head, body twitching in his confinement. And Aries nearly stopped breathing as he felt…something. He could not define it, at first. A strange weakness, and a pull. Like he was breathing out when he should be breathing in. The closest he could come to anything similar was the feeling of a dementor nearby, except this wasn't sucking out his happiness. No, it was something else entirely.

And then it was gone, and Harry was hanging limply in the ropes, no longer subjected to the curse.

Aries' head spun, vague theories and mermish curses chasing each other. A few deep breaths helped to calm him, and he decided he had better pay attention.

"Now untie him, Wormtail," Voldemort said, "and give him back his wand."

The boy's feet scrabbled against the gravestone, finding purchase and supporting his weight just as he was released from the ropes. He looked like he wanted to run, and Aries, at first, couldn't remember why he didn't, before he recalled the acromantula. He looked at his past self with pity, which thankfully distinctly resembled scorn, and moved with the other Death Eaters to surround him, cutting off that chance for escape.

"You have been taught how to duel, Harry Potter?" Voldemort taunted. "We bow to each other, Harry." The Dark Lord bent a little, gaze fixed on his prey. "Come, the niceties must be observed…Dumbledore would like you to show manners…Bow to death, Harry…"

Everyone seemed to think this quite funny; Aries laughed as well, and counted on his master being too distracted to notice the Spellsmith was laughing at him, not at Harry. There was, in fact, nothing funny about Harry at all. He was a dirty, injured, scared boy whose jaw was clenched in determination. He certainly did not look like he intended to bow. But, Aries knew, with Voldemort you rarely got a choice.

With a snarl and a twitch of his wand, the Dark Lord cast an Obeisance Curse and Harry's back arched forward. This, too, seemed very amusing to those watching. Aries privately wondered how, exactly, any of this proved Voldemort's superiority. But then, that was the trap the Dark Lord had walked into this night. Rather than proving that Harry wasn't an obstacle by simply killing him while he was tied up, the competitive schoolboy Tom Riddle had demanded the chance to prove himself better, stronger than his opponent. But even muggles knew what happened to a bully when someone wasn't afraid anymore.

"And now – we duel."

Aries supposed whoever wrote the book on dueling must have been rolling in his grave; only the obsessed megalomaniac before him could consider this a duel.

Again, the Cruciatus curse was cast, and again, as Harry screamed and fell, twitching, to the ground, Aries felt the pull. This time it felt like he was a butterbeer, and Harry was the straw. Thankfully, the curse was not maintained for long, and the world righted itself as the boy stood on his own two feet again.

"A little break, a little pause…That hurt, didn't it, Harry? You don't want me to do that again, do you?"

Voldemort had never sounded more like Umbrage in all the time Aries had known him. Just as Harry would soon defy her, he now defied Voldemort, silent and still in his brave acceptance of death. Proving, forever and irrevocably, his superiority to the Dark Lord. Death was Voldemort's greatest fear, his unnamed shadow in the dark; Harry had deliberately chosen death over humiliation, a decision that had carried him for decades.

The Spellsmith mentally cursed, shutting his eyes tight. He was identifying too much with Harry, and desperately needed to separate himself before he was found out. Cutting off his outside senses, he frantically tried to Occlude, only to have his barriers penetrated before he could mount a defense.

"_Just answer no…say no…just answer no…"_

Aries trembled to hear the Dark Lord's voice inside his mind, but it was as though he were an outsider, eavesdropping on the conversation. Sure enough, Harry was there too, lost in the bliss of the Imperius curse.

"_I will not_," Aries commanded, carefully keeping his part out of Voldemort's prying thoughts. "_I won't answer…_"

"_Just answer no…_"

"_I won't do it, I won't say it_," Aries chanted, feeling Harry listen to him and pull away from the Dark Lord's influence.

"_Just answer no…_"

And then, with an almost physical snap, the spell broke. Aries was rocked back onto his heels by the force of it. No one noticed, the other Death Eaters had been knocked for a loop, too, as Harry's "I WON'T!" echoed through the graveyard.

Voldemort, in his cold fury laced with fear at being denied, sounded even more deadly as he prepared to fire another Unforgiveable. But Harry's eyes twitched, his muscles tensing, and just as the Dark Lord raised his wand the Gryffindor jumped and rolled. The tombstone bearing Tom Riddle's name bore the curse, while Harry hid behind it.

"We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry." Voldemort's high, cold voice sounded unnerved, and distinctly annoyed at being unnerved. This 'duel' was clearly not going according to plans. Like a schoolyard bully, the Dark Lord taunted Harry, assuming the inevitability of his death at Voldemort's hands.

But Aries knew something his master didn't, and that was the simple fact that the 14-year-old boy was about to end this on his terms, not on Voldemort's. And, as if Fate herself bowed to such courage (or audacity, as Charles would likely claim), the unblockable, undefendable curse was negated by a 2nd year disarming spell.

Phoenix song rang out as golden magic arced through the air. Though he expected it this time, the sudden rush of energy out of him knocked Aries for a loop, and it took him several seconds to regain his balance and chase the duelers through the air. The time traveler's legs trembled at the effort (and not at the thought of seeing his parents). His palms were clammy and he felt a little sick from the sensation (and not from guilt at Cedric's death).

"Do nothing unless I command you," Voldemort shrieked at his servants, red eyes rolling in his head, wild with fear at this magic he did not know and could not understand.

From outside the magical barrier, Aries couldn't see much of what was going on at all, but he could feel it well enough. When Harry finally understood what he needed to do, Aries barely managed to keep upright, the sudden drain on his sustaining force was so strong. Worst of all was the moment the golden threads vanished. Distantly, Aries noticed that Harry was running away, but his eyes were glued to the ghostly figures – echoes, Dumbledore had called them – rushing the Dark Lord.

Lily glanced at him, just for a moment, but Aries knew it wasn't a coincidence. There was so much in her expression, Aries couldn't take it in, and he knew he would be spending a long time in his pensieve tonight.

"_Stun him!_" Voldemort screamed, snapping the Spellsmith from his distraction, and Aries turned and bolted after the Gryffindor.

He didn't dare to interfere, nor to seem lacking in enthusiasm. He fired spell after spell at Harry's retreating back, but only succeeded in hitting dirt and an unfortunate, winged tombstone.

Harry counterattacked with an impediment jinx that took Avery down, and Malfoy and Crabbe tripped over the Death Eater's suddenly still form. Aries saw Harry dive for Diggory's body and shot another stunning spell over the boy's head.

"Stand aside!" Voldemort shrieked, forcing his way through the crowd of servants. "I will kill him! He is mine!"

Satisfaction flared briefly in Aries' gut – the Dark Lord's fatal hubris reared its ugly head again – before he ruthlessly quashed it. Voldemort raised his wand to cast the killing curse once again, but hit only air as the portkey flew to Harry's hand and activated instantly. An inhuman scream of fury, which ironically reminded Harry of a Dudley who had been denied a treat, flooded the graveyard.

"Fools!" Voldemort rounded on them, red eyes flashing. "Incompetent fools! How long shall I suffer your idiocy? A mere boy, and you could not even keep him from escaping!"

The Dark Lord cursed them all indiscriminately, but the excruciating pain lasted only moments, as his fury couldn't find any one target to focus on. Some of them got cursed twice, some three times, but no Death Eater was exempt. And none dared point out the obvious – that if they had failed to recapture that 'mere boy', so too had Voldemort failed to kill him.

"Leave me, all of you," he ordered. "I will be calling on you, one by one, to report how you have served me in my absence. Lucius, get your home in order, once you have reassured the Ministry that I have not, in fact, returned, you will have a very important house guest. Understood?"

"Yes, my Lord," Lucius bowed. "It is our honor to serve you, always."

Voldemort's expression showed what he thought of the truth of that sentiment, and Aries had no doubt that Lucius had not redeemed himself yet.

"Get out of my sight," the Dark Lord hissed. "The rest of you as well. Aries, you stay."

A cold chill went down Aries' back as his fellow Death Eaters disapparated, leaving he and Voldemort alone in the graveyard. Wormtail was the last to leave, and the Gryffindor wondered if the rat had anywhere to go. A long silence followed, and once the last echoes of disapparition faded away, Aries found his voice.

"Master, what do you wish of me?" he asked

"Aries Hesuchazo," Voldemort's piercing red eyes focused intently on him, and the Spellsmith met them, showing nothing but devotion and a hint of fear. "You have made yourself quite scarce in my absence. Neither the spineless worm I possessed, nor the ministry worker who stumbled upon Wormtail had ever heard of you, and our dear Pettigrew himself could tell me nothing of your whereabouts during the last thirteen years."

"I am technically a wanted man in Britain, my Lord," Aries told him. "And without you, these shores meant little to me. It was not in my best interest to remain."

Voldemort seemed to accept that. He stopped staring at Aries, and began circling him, like a cat eying a bird with a broken wing.

"You were close, it seems, to one Severus Snape. You joined my ranks together, did you not?"

"We did, my Lord. I met Severus while at Hogwarts, and without him I might never have found my way to your side."

"A pity, isn't it then, that he did not come when I called? Tell me, are you still…close…to our dear Potions Master?"

The Dark Lord had stopped behind Aries, and the hairs on his neck rose under the snakelike gaze.

"We see each other whenever I am in Britain, and correspond with occasional letters when I am away," Aries admitted. "My Lord, I swear, I have never had reason to doubt his loyalty to you."

Voldemort laughed lightly.

"Always so direct, my little spellsmith," he whispered, _entirely_ to close to Aries' left ear for comfort. "You do not dance around my questions like the others do. So, if Severus Snape were not so loyal, if he had betrayed us for the Old Fool, Dumbledore, what would you do?"

In a flash, Aries let the words reassemble in his mind, recalling how he had felt after Severus had killed Dumbledore, after his betrayal. He turned slowly, falling to his knees and looking up into his master's face.

"I would kill him myself," he vowed. The probing touch of Legillimency skimmed his thoughts, then pulled away. Voldemort was satisfied.

"Then bring him to me, and we shall see."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries paced back and forth in the Safe House, dredging up his memories of this night from twenty years ago. How long had it taken from the time he'd portkeyd back to Hogwarts to the time Snape was ordered back into spying. So many things had to happen – Barty Jr.'s explanation, his own recounting, meeting up with the Weasleys in the hospital wing, Fudge's grand entry, and he was pretty sure he'd fallen asleep at some point.

The only conclusion he could come to, he decided, nervously gnawing on a piece of red licorice, was that he had no way of knowing whether it was one hour or four that he would be waiting. Really, he wasn't even entirely certain Severus would come to the Safe House, rather than Malfoy Manor.

He was just considering going to Hogwarts himself – a ridiculously risky move, considering the tremendous ministry presence – when the pop of apparition sounded in Sev's bedroom.

"You're here!" he exclaimed, running to the doorway.

He stopped short on seeing his friend's grim expression. Severus was standing over a trunk at the foot of the bed. The false top was open, and the white mask on top stood out on top of the black robes, even in the faint light. Silently, Sev stared at him, dark eyes looking him up and down; Aries remembered he hadn't bothered to remove his own robes.

"It's all true, then," the Potions Master muttered flatly, as his last hope of a hoax or disastrous prank fell away.

Aries nodded, unable to meet his friend's eyes. He had forgotten that, while _he_ had known this day was coming, Sev had only distantly dreaded it as an unwelcomed possibility.

"I guess Potter spilled the beans pretty fast, didn't he?" he said, trying to lighten the mood.

"Him and Barty Crouch Jr.," Severus countered, pulling the robe out and slipping it over his head.

"Barty was the agent at Hogwarts?" Aries tried to sound shocked. "And he confessed?"

"The Headmaster," Severus stressed the title, "had a supply of Veritaserum on hand." He slipped his mask on, hiding his face from view.

"Ah, right," Aries agreed. "Well, we'd better be going then."

He turned, grabbing his own mask off the kitchen counter, and was about to put it on when he felt a hand on his arm. The brunet looked up at his faceless friend.

"Aries, if I am unable to convince him…" he trailed off.

"I'll kill you myself," Aries promised.

Severus nodded, a shallow sigh the only sign that he was relieved. They had made that pact long ago; a quick death at a friend's hand, instead of lingering torture for Voldemort's amusement.

With no more delay, the two Death Eaters gripped each other's forearms, spinning in practiced unison. A casual observer would not have been able to tell who was apparating whom.

The graveyard had not changed, except to get even darker with the encroaching night. Voldemort was nowhere to be seen. Aries pulled up his left sleeve and put his wand to his mark, feeling it grow warm under the touch. Seconds later, an answering burn made them both flinch and they apparated, separately this time, to the source of the call.

Neither were foolish enough to take in their surroundings; at the sight of their Master, sitting in an armchair in front of a fireplace, both dropped to one knee. Aries conspicuously kept his wand out, in his right hand, his right arm resting on his thigh so the wand was pointed at Severus.

"Master," he said, "I have brought him, as you requested." Voldemort did not respond right away, so after several seconds of awkward silence, Aries hazarded to add, "He offered no resistance, my Lord."

"Aries, come," Voldemort ordered. "Stand beside me. And when I want your input, I will ask for it."

"Yes, m'lord."

Aries dipped his head in a quick bow and rose to his feet, standing at Voldemort's right. Only then did he notice that Wormtail was huddled on a stool at the Dark Lord's left, beady eyes glaring petulantly at Aries. The brunet returned the look with one of disinterested contempt, and returned his attention to his friend on the floor.

"Severus Snape," Voldemort's hissed. "Once I would have called you my most loyal. It appears I was mistaken."

"No, my lord!" Severus exclaimed, looking up for the first time.

"No? You disagree?" Voldemort pulled out his wand, stroking one finger down it's length. "Perhaps you are simply not as well informed as I. For instance, perhaps you are unaware that I was witness, three years ago, to your attempts to save Mr. Potter's life. Did you not once suspect that Quirrell was acting under my express command?"

"Never, my lord!" Severus insisted. "I had no idea until Dumbledore revealed the truth behind your encounter with the Potter boy at the end of that year. I am so sorry, my lord, if you had but trusted me I – "

"Trusted you?" Voldemort's high, cold voice was barely above a whisper. "And why should I have trusted you? For ten years you sat in Dumbledore's pocket; how long have you been his, Severus?"

"Never!" Severus practically spat the word in his disgust, then shrank back, as if afraid of his lord's reaction to his outburst. Voldemort tilted his head and gestured minutely with one hand for the Potions Master to continue. "Master, I swear to you, I have scraped and begged under Dumbledore's foot for the last decade, but only because there was _no other viable option_. I was weak, and did not know you were immortal, so when you vanished, I turned my thoughts to staying out of prison. Because Dumbledore believed – and continues to believe, hence my tardiness tonight – that I am his spy, and not yours, I have remained a free man, I have advanced in fortune and knowledge, and am now much more use to you than I would be otherwise."

He took a deep breath, as if this explanation had exhausted him, and met Voldemort's eyes.

Although he could not see it, Aries could practically feel the thrum of Legillimency in the air, and thanked Merlin that Severus had only gotten better at Occlumency over time. Then Voldemort shifted, and the spell was broken.

"My lord," Severus pleaded, "give me a chance to prove myself. If I am not worth your time, you lose nothing by killing me later, rather than now."

The Dark Lord was silent, and Aries lowered his eyelids until they were almost closed. He knew Severus survived this, and continued to spy effectively. There was nothing to worry about. But that did not stop his hand from itching to feel his wand against its palm. So instead he blocked it out, pretended he was simply observing, like living among the dwarves again; a silent witness, nothing more.

"Very well, my dear Potions Master," Voldemort finally spoke. "You will return to Dumbledore. You will tell him I am indeed back from the dead. You have no information on what spell or potion I used, nor on any other Death Eaters who are still loyal to me, particularly, you have no evidence that Wormtail is alive."

"Yes, my lord," Severus bowed deeply, both hands pressed against the ground. "Thank you, my lord."

"Also, you will monitor Dumbledore for me. He will no doubt gather his rag-tag band of bird-followers again; get as close to them as you can. I am particularly interested in how Minister Fudge will act around Dumbledore. Miss Bagshot seemed to think of him as power-hungry and simple, which is an interesting combination for our _dear_ headmaster."

"I will do just as you say, master," Severus promised.

"See that you do," Voldemort' hissed, and Aries could imagine his red eyes shining. "I have been forgiving this time, in that I have not killed you outright when I should have. I will not be nearly so forgiven if there is a next time. _Crucio_."

Once Severus' punishment was over, he was allowed to leave, and Wormtail was shooed out, leaving Aries alone again with the darkest wizard of their age. He did not move, knowing better than to think he had simply been forgotten, and waited as patiently as he could.

"My lord, do you have a task for me?"

10 seconds, blast.

"Indeed, my eager young Spellsmith," the Dark Lord smirked. "Though not so young any more; how old are you now?"

"Not quite 35, master."

"Still quite young, then, compared to me."

"I am inferior to you in all ways, age is but one of them." Aries was pretty pleased that he managed not to gag on the words.

"I do have a task for you. Keep an eye on Severus Snape, and keep him separated from the other Death Eaters. If he is on Dumbledore's side, I don't want him learning too much."

"Yes, my lord." He put one hand on his chest and bowed. When several seconds passed without further instruction, he dared to straighten and turn toward the exit.

"Oh, and Aries," Voldemort stopped him. The Spellsmith turned to face the snake-like figure again. "It would be wise for you to start studying time magic."

"Yes, my lord. That should be very interesting," Aries replied, managing to turn the utter shock into confused curiosity. Voldemort smirked at him again, looking like an indulgent mother snake, and dismissed him with a flick of his fingers.

Aries disapparated back to the Safe House and sat, shaking, in his favorite armchair.

_And to think_, his mind replayed his conversation with Charles that first summer in the past, about the nature of time-travel, _this is me trying __not__ to mess with the time-space continuum._

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: Well, what do you think? We have now caught up to the end of book four. Just two more years to go, and we can get back to the present (which has some pretty awesome stuff, let me tell you). Thanks for reading, and for your kind comments on the last chapter. If it weren't for you guys, I would have dropped this baby long ago.**

**PANTZ,**

**Emy**


	33. OOTP Part I

**Disclaimer:** Jo's world, I just live here.

**Summary: **A monkey sat on my pants today – a good omen!

**A/N: **This one took a little longer than I wanted it to. In reality, I spent maybe two days writing, and the rest with writers' block. I'm pretty pleased with it though; enjoy!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 33: Aries Hesuchazo and the Order of the Phoenix Part I

Voldemort was pleased. Aries could feel it, like a candle behind a lamp shade. Voldemort's satisfaction – none could ever go so far as to call it genuine 'happiness' – hummed on the other side of his Occlumency barriers. He sighed and glanced at the window box where owls dropped his post; sure enough, the Daily Prophet had been delivered just a few minutes ago. They must have printed another defamatory – if not outright libelous – remark about Dumbledore or Harry. The smear campaign had been going on for months now, and Voldemort was enjoying every bit of it.

"The weak make such wonderful tools," he had said when it became clear the remarks weren't a one-time event. "They care so much for their lives of blissful ignorance; threaten that bliss and watch them scurry."

With the ministry distracted chasing Dumbledore, and Dumbledore distracted outwitting the ministry, the Death Eaters were free to examine every angle of "the prophecy problem" with impunity, as well as scrounge up a few allies. Macnair and Crabbe Sr. had been sent to the giants, and Aries himself had been assigned to liaise with the goblins, as well as foster any other "friendships" he could.

Which was why he was, at that particular moment, sitting at his desk with a Gobbledygook-English dictionary, trying to craft a letter to Crunchmallet Daggerlaw. He had been on the waiting list to see the head of Gringotts for three months running now. The goblins obviously knew of his semi-legal status, because when he had tried to throw his weight around as a Master Spellsmith, they had just bared their teeth in a goblin smile and told him they would give him the priority he deserved.

Granted, with a degree from Atlantis U, he was well aware there were better ways of going about things with goblins. In fact, he was deliberately taking the slow, typical wizard route on purpose, to give the Order as much time as possible. But Voldemort was getting impatient, so Aries wanted to at least _look_ like he was pulling all the strings at his disposal. Particularly after that last meeting…

The problem was that it had been nearly four years since he had last corresponded with Crunch, and about as long since he had last used Gobbledygook. He was even having a hard time remembering if Crunch was still Chief of Security, or if he had inherited the President position of Daggerlaw Financial Correspondents. The difference was kind of important, because he couldn't decide how to begin the letter until he knew what to call his friend, officially speaking. After all, one didn't start a missive requesting aid in interspecies negotiations with "Dear Crunch".

With a frustrated sigh, Aries put quill to parchment to pen his third try:

_Dear Master Daggerlaw,_

_ Gems and fine metal to you. I read of your success in the financial papers, and am quite pleased to call myself your friend. In the current climate, allies are nearly as valuable as gold. Allies to help one understand the complicated tectonics of politics; allies to protect one from dragons and disaster. Even more important, we all need allies in different situations, to guard all the tunnels of the grotto, to speak figuratively._

_ Never have I personally felt that need so great. The human world is festering with untreated wounds, and I feel a duty to my race to help it. However, as the ill do not vomit medicine, so do I, as a human myself, find my desire difficult to achieve on my own. If you would be noble enough to hear me out in person, we could surely find a way to mold an alloy of our strengths._

_ If you agree, tell me when and where to meet, old friend. I will be to your side whenever I am requested._

_ With proper admiration,_

_ Master Hesuchazo, Spellsmith_

"Mikta mi, that took a long time," Aries muttered, setting down his quill.

Despite the brevity of the letter, it had taken him five hours to write, in total. But, he was finally satisfied. This version was formal, but not threatening; pleading, but not desperate; manipulative, but not overly so. He hoped his goblin friend would appreciate all the work that had gone into it.

Stretching his aching back, the Spellsmith gave the letter to Charles' barn owl – Valkyre.

"To the Goblin Routing Office at the Ministry of Magic, please," he instructed.

Valkyre bobbed her head once in a strange little bow and flapped to the windowsill. She paused for a moment, as if checking the weather, then tilted out and flew away. Aries watched until she was barely visible, thinking wistfully of Hedwig.

Charles had urged him to get another owl, years ago. The brunet had even glanced at a couple of owl shops, but even thinking about purchasing another owl, of taking care of it like he had taken care of Hedwig, made his stomach turn.

_After all_, he had reasoned, _I've lost Ron and Hermione too, and I don't go around looking for other Weasleys. Besides, I don't think Hedwig would appreciate any competition when this is all sorted out._

Shaking off such unproductive thoughts, Aries turned to get his cloak, eager to start on phase two of his "look like I'm doing something" plan.

The late November breeze cut through even the thick fabric of his winter clothes, until the Spellsmith finally gave in and cast an _imperturbable_ charm over his heating charmed garments. That helped keep the wind out enough that he no longer felt his gloved fingers going numb where they clutched his broomstick. Muggle London spread out below him, oblivious to a _disillusioned_ wizard flying over their heads.

The flight was so similar to one his younger self had taken just a few months before, that at time he found himself looking over his shoulder for and Order guard. Of course, there was none, and if there had been, they would hardly have escorted him to his destination. After all, Moody would probably object to a Death Eater scouting around Grimmauld Place.

Aries had been very careful with both Voldemort and Snape to not let on that he still knew the secret. Straight from the Secret Keeper's pen, the knowledge of the Black's house's address had been stored safely for 18 years, and now it was going to be put to good use. That certainly didn't mean he could just waltz in there; he was still a wanted man. Really, coming too close to the house at all was unwise, because of a certain Auror's magically enhanced vision.

The Spellsmith had thoroughly researched Moody's magical eye and the spells involved. He was sure the auror had added a few touches of his own, but the basic makeup of the prosthetic was well known, if too expensive to be called 'common'. Counters to those particular spells, however, were not known at all, and crafting them had taken weeks.

As he closed in on the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black, Aries started looking for good places to land and stash his broom. About a mile from Grimmauld Place, he spotted a place where three tall buildings cast a constant shadow, a little gap only connected to the main street by a small walkway that led to an alley. Hoping no one was taking a cigarette break just then, the wizard swooped down.

The alcove was empty when he landed, but Aries didn't want to take any chances. Still disillusioned, he transfigured his robe into a blazer over his green shirt and black slacks, then transfigured his cloak to a warm jacket. His broom, he affixed to the back of a dumpster with both sticking and muggle-repelling charms.

Then, casting a final glance around to make sure he was alone, he cancelled the disillusionment charm and slipped his wand up his sleeve. His old dragon scale holster had proved its usefulness once again, perfectly anchoring the spells to hide him from Mad-Eye.

Aries allowed himself a small, congratulatory smirk at his spellwork. Recognizing that true invisibility would not only be much more difficult to maintain, but would also give him away entirely if even part of the magic fell, the Spellsmith had opted instead for the Purloined Letter approach. His wand was hidden from magical view, and the rest of the spells had been designed to mask his magical signature, making him appear no more than a muggle. He had even designed his disguise to conceal his head and eye position at will, allowing him to stare at the door to headquarters while, to any observers, he was bird watching, or reading a newspaper.

Speaking of, Aries stopped a moment to buy a copy of the Camden Gazette from a coin-operated stand. He made a show of perusing the front page, before folding the paper and sticking it under one arm. It took him nearly half an hour to reach Grimmauld Place, as he didn't want to attract attention by walking too purposefully. When he finally reached the small courtyard across from number 12, the morning fog was just starting to lift. He sat down under a tree, cringing at the damp grass, and braced his back against the trunk. The Death Eater was at an angle to the house, and slightly hidden by young shoots springing from the base of the tree.

Pulling a very muggle-looking sandwich from his pocket, Aries opened the paper and prepared to wait.

The first time his target emerged, about an hour and a half later, he simply looked around to be sure no one was looking, then disapparated. Aries cursed softy; he needed to be able to follow the man, to get him on his own. So, feigning disinterest, he pulled the collar of his jacket up around his ears and pretended to sleep.

Three hours passed and the man returned, apparating onto the front stoop.

When it started to get dark, Aries wondered if he might have to come back some other time. The last glow of dusk faded into night, and the Spellsmith was nearly ready to call it quits when the door to number 12 opened, and a figure emerged, hunched up and bundled in a long cloak, one tail of a scarf trailing behind him. The man shut the door behind him, glanced around again, then started to walk down the street, away from Aries' hiding place. The brunet hesitated, not sure if this was the right person, when the man walked under a street lamp, illuminating just enough of his face.

_Perfect luck!_ Aries thought, folding up his paper. _Now if I can just catch up_.

His hip was throbbing from the damp cold, and the Spellsmith cautiously pushed against the tree for support as he stood. He stretched, then made a show of looking at his watch, gaping in horror, and rushing off the way his target had gone. The man turned a corner ahead of him, and Aries was just barely able to make it to the intersection in time to keep him in sight. The wizard wasn't walking particularly fast, but he definitely had somewhere to be.

Panting, his leg complaining about the rough treatment, Aries cast a Shadow Spell he'd learned overseas on himself, merging into the darkness around him. The world shifted, looking like a photo negative, and it took him a moment to adjust, but when he did he was able to slip from shadow to shadow at will, moving much faster and with much less effort than by running.

The cloaked figure reached his destination just a few minutes later; a small warehouse with several seedy-looking characters loitering outside. Aries recognized Mundungus Fletcher, sipping happily from a whisky bottle, but the others weren't familiar at all.

"You found a buyer?" Aries' target asked.

"Yup, some apothecary off Knockturn needs some cheap cauldrons," Dung answered. "You up for a bit of delivery work?"

"I think I can manage," the man replied dryly, then shifted a bit, seeming suddenly awkward. "Er…how much…"

"You get a 10% commission from the sale," Dung cut him off graciously. "Call it our gratitude for not having to show our faces."

"Right. Well, I'll be off then. If I'm not back in an hour, let the old man know what happened."

Dung waved a hand encouragingly, and led his partner in crime into the back. Aries waited, hunkered down in the shadows. His target would be back soon, and would probably walk back to Headquarters this same way. The Spellsmith just needed a bit of patience, and they would be able to talk freely.

Sure enough, barely twenty minutes had passed when the cloaked figure reappeared. He handed Dung a bag of coins, and the thief made a show of counting them all before giving the man his cut.

"Thanks, Mundungus," the man said, turning to leave. Dung gave him a wave, too buried in his liquor to reply.

Aries retreated just far enough that no one from the warehouse would be able to see or hear their conversation, then stepped out of the shadows as his target approached.

"So, Remus, reduced to scrounging the black market for work?" he tried for a friendly tone, to ease the insult, but it came out as more of a sneer.

Remus stopped, took a deep breath, and looked up. Aries was a little surprised to see a flicker of genuine shame cross his face. He was also a little disgusted at the conniving part of his brain that said, 'I can use that.'

"Who's there?" the werewolf asked, brown eyes glinting with gold in the artificial light.

Aries took a step forward, but the other man's confusion remained.

"What, don't even recognize your old study partner? Why Remus, I'm hurt."

Recognition flickered across Remus' face then, followed by vague dislike and disgust. Which, coming from a man as reserved as him, was akin to utter hatred.

"And here I was thinking I would be blessed never to cross paths with you again, Mr. Hesuchazo," he drawled.

"Oh believe me, I would have preferred that myself," Aries lied, "but I'm here to offer you a proposition."

"I decline. Now if you'll excuse me…" Remus made a move to push the Spellsmith out of the way, but Aries sidestepped, coming up behind the werewolf and nicking the small bag of coins out of his hand.

"Humiliating, isn't it?" he asked. "You, a Journeyman in the art of Dark Creatures, impeccable qualifications, completely unable to find an above-board job. And all because of such a silly thing. We are trying to change all that, you know. Oh, I know it doesn't seem like it right now, after all, we have to keep Dumbledore's side as weak as possible. But after, when we hold the power, you'll be free to do as you like, to find employment and receive pay as is due your position. Perhaps you'll even be allowed your Mastery. That is, if you're still alive when that happens."

By the time he finished, he had circled around in front of Remus, and held out his payment. The werewolf hesitated, then slowly reached out a hand and took it, his movements slow, but his grip turned his knuckles white.

"Think on it," Aries said flippantly, turning around and starting to walk off. He made sure not to leave too quickly, eager to hear Remus' response, but his first several steps were taken in silence. Why wasn't he saying anything?

"Aries," the other man finally spoke. The Death Eater stopped and turned his head to listen. "I hate you, and I hate Voldemort. And you can take that to the bank."

Outwardly, Aries scoffed, shook his head, and walked off. Inwardly, he was sighing in relief; for a moment, he had almost thought…but no, Remus would never be tempted by such a cheap trick.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Something over the holidays had changed the Dark Lord. Most of the Death Eaters were guessing it had to do with Nagini's encounter with Arthur Weasley, but were utterly at a loss as to how that would result in such a change. Voldemort had been very pensive immediately following the attack, and would often get lost in thought, expressions of humor or disgust, as if watching a Muggle telly inside his head.

Aries was well aware of the whole situation. The first time he found himself in a dream of the corridor leading to the Department of Mysteries, he had woken in a cold sweat and spent 4 hours meditating to boost his Occlumency shields.

Lucius Malfoy, meanwhile, was walking on cloud nine. He and Narcissa bragged about having a mole inside headquarters itself. Where Aries' blood used to run hot at the thought of the house elf Kreacher, now a chill would run up his back at the memory of Regulus, and his own complicity. So, rather than think about it, he continued to play his part, assuming his usual attitude of aloofness to such weighty matters, combined with single-minded focus on his appointed task.

After several diplomatically worded letters back and forth, he and Crunch had finally set up a time and place to meet. Crunchmallet, in typical Goblin fashion, had invited Aries to a pub, though not one the Spellsmith was familiar with. The Dancing Skulls was tiny – literally Goblin-sized – and situated snugly in a side alley behind Gringotts. Aries was pretty sure it was a good sign the goblin had taken him to such a place, as opposed to a Wizarding establishment like the Leaky Cauldron, but it could just mean he wanted no human witnesses.

Hesitantly, Aries opened the door and walked in. The ceiling, thankfully, was full human height, and the furniture was an odd mix of goblin- and human-sized chairs and tables. The bar at the front had short stools side by side with tall stools that had steps – presumably to help humans and goblins reach the same height. Behind the bar, a goblin with a wild mane of white hair – more hair than Aries had ever seen on a full-blooded goblin before – and an eye-patch polished one pristine glass while watching him carefully. The Spellsmith gave him a Goblin nod – nearly touching his right ear to his shoulder – and moved to the side wall, where Crunch was beckoning him.

"_A place for good whisky?_" Aries turned the compliment into a question.

"_The best; cured in the deepest caverns of the bank, in Dragon charred oak barrels,_" Crunch replied, nudging a glass toward Aries.

The Spellsmith sipped it, appreciating the burn in his throat as he swallowed. It really was extremely good. He glanced at the bottle, near Crunch's left hand. _Gringotts Bourbon, _it read, _for bank use only._

"Aries," Crunch said eventually, "do you know why I asked to meet you here?"

"Because I am a friend to you," Aries answered, hoping he was right. "Because you know that I have both our best interests at heart."

Crunchmallet took a long sip, holding it on his tongue for several seconds before swallowing.

"Close, but a little off," the goblin grunted. "You are a friend to me, as I am to you, but your mind is trapped in human thinking, and so our best interests differ."

"What do you mean?" Aries asked, honestly confused.

"How old is the oldest living human you can think of?" Crunch raised a qualifying finger as Aries opened his mouth to answer. "Not including any precocious alchemists."

"Albus Dumbledore," the Spellsmith answered; it was certainly the first name that came to mind when he thought of 'old'. His friend frowned at him, lips curled in disappointment.

"Now really," he said, "I know of at least two humans older than him, just off the top of my head. There's a ministry exam proctor named Marchbanks who entered her second century last year, and Bathilda Bagshot, the human who wrote the standard textbook for Hogwarts' History class and just turned 182."

That's right; Aries remembered Marchbanks from his own OWL year. Hadn't she mentioned being there for Dumbledore's NEWT's?

"I'm afraid I don't understand what point you're trying to make," he admitted.

"Think back to Atlantis University and the studies you did there," Crunch urged, voice barely more than a low growl. "How old to Goblins get?"

Frowning, the Spellsmith tried to remember. It had been years since his Intelligent Biology class. He couldn't remember the specifics, so he guessed instead.

"Four hundred years?" he hazarded.

"At least," Crunch insisted. "Most Clan Heads claim closer to 500. The real Master Daggerlaw is 466." He took another slow drink of bourbon, while Aries tried to imagine what point he was trying to make. "I see you're still confused. Try to think like a Goblin; if you were going to live 500 years, would you care about human wars? I am fairly young, at only 90, and even I have seen several wars come and go. Grindelwald rose and fell when I was but a Gibberling. You see my point now?"

Aries did, and he understood that Crunchmallet was trying to say as little as possible in a potentially hazardous place to talk. The goblins did not know that Voldemort was immortal – and Aries figured he would keep that close to his chest until the time was right – and so they assumed they could simply bide their time. Eventually, by their thinking, Voldemort and Dumbledore and Harry Potter would all die of old age, if nothing else, and the whole war would be relegated to the history books.

"I think I understand," he said slowly. "But I still need your help. After all, with the resources at its disposal, you can certainly see why some people would be nervous about the Gringotts clan. Perhaps you can help me get in to see the clan leader, so I can have his word that the Goblins will aid neither side in this war. Is that a possibility?"

Crunch smirked and finished the rest of his whiskey in one swallow.

"In the name of our friendship," he grunted. "Because I'd really like to see you outlast this war, too."

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: I almost did all of book 5 in one chapter, but I knew, after this scene, that if I tried it I would end up rushing through it and it wouldn't be as good. Thanks for all your support guys! I love getting your reviews.**

**PANTZ,**

**Emy**


	34. OOTP Part II

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just meddle sometimes.

**Summary:** What d'you want? A medal inscribed with a short reminder of everything that's happened so far? Pfaugh.

**A/N:** Whelp, that's what college will do to you. We've got two or three chapters for Half-Blood Prince, then probably three more chapters for the rest. Stick with me guys, we can do it!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**Chapter 34: Aries Hesuchazo and the Order of the Phoenix Part II**

Aries departed from his friend with a promise to meet again in two months' time to discuss any progress. The Spellsmith bit back an impatient response (knowing that Voldemort would hardly be pleased with the delay), remembering the fondness goblins had for the saying "I can do it right or I can do it fast", and they're disapproval of the human tendency to pick 'fast'. As if recognizing the effort such patience took, Crunchmallet let Aries leave with the bottle of whiskey, which he stored safely in a cupboard in the Safe House.

The poor bottle never stood a chance.

When Aries would look at a calendar, later, he would realize that Harry's second Occlumency lesson had been the trigger, not the first as he had assumed. But then Severus usually needed repetition to learn an unpleasant truth. Of course, all of this the Spellsmith learned in hindsight. At the time, when he walked into the Safe House to find his Gringotts' whisky bottle empty (along with several other bottles) and half the dishes broken on the floor, his only thought was: _What in all the magic is going on?_

"Severus," he asked in astonishment on finding the Potions Professor sitting on the kitchen floor, a stack of unbroken dishes next to him and a bottle of gin in one hand. "What in all the magic is going on?"

Severus looked up at him and made a face like had fallen asleep trying to glare. Aries swallowed the hysterical laughter that bubbled up inside, bending down instead to haul the sot off the floor, though he had to scrunch his nose up in disgust at the stench of alcohol. The other man didn't protest as the brunet dragged him to his bedroom, but he wasn't exactly helpful either, and y the time the Spellsmith could drop his burden on the bed, his arms were aching and his patience was wearing thin.

"Alright, now where did you put that stupid sober-up potion," he muttered to the lump of black robes. The lump didn't answer.

A short search revealed the Slytherin-green potion stashed in the broom cupboard. Sev obviously hadn't been planning on using it tonight. Aries sniffed cautiously to make sure that it was, in fact, the right potion and not a cleaning agent, as its hiding place would have suggested.

The maker of the potion had passed out on his bed, but a quick _aguamenti_ brought him back to life at least enough to drain the vial. As the artificial buzz drained away, the effects of dehydration and alcohol poisoning took effect, making the potion live up to its nickname – instant hangover. Severus didn't make a noise, but his eyes scrunched up and his face muscles grew taut.

"Feel better?" Aries asked in a mocking sing-song. He was intensely curious as to what had brought his friend to such a state, and the curiosity was compounding his irritation at losing dozens of galleons worth of booze in one night.

"Either get me a glass of water or kill me now, you merciless parasite," Sev croaked.

The brunet took pity on him and got a glass from the kitchen – one of the few unbroken ones. He waited until his friend had drained it and some of the tension had left his face before asking again.

"So what exactly made you think it would be a good idea to get absolutely plastered on a Wednesday? For Merlin's sake, you've got classes tomorrow."

Severus cringed away from the question. No real surprise – the master Occlumens didn't turn to the bottle for simple matters. Briefly, Aries considered dropping then matter, but before he could suggest it, his friend spoke.

"I was ordered to teach the Potter boy Occlumency," he admitted.

"Oh," Aries dredged up a surprised expression. "That bad, huh?"

Sev chuckled bitterly.

"He is a more stubborn, insolent, and lazy student of this than he ever was of potions," he agreed disdainfully. "But I expected that. I did not expect certain of his memories. His relatives, all of them, appear consistently to act like…like my father at his worst."

Aries cursed before he could stop himself, but Severus didn't notice.

"Afterwards, I pulled out memories of the boy and checked them in the pensieve. As soon as I started looking, the effects of such long-term neglect were obvious. Particularly in his first year, when he was clearly malnourished and flinched from loud noises and sudden movement. And I – charged with protecting him – was utterly oblivious."

The time traveler was utterly speechless. He couldn't think of any comments to make that would not come from Harry Potter. Thankfully, the austere spy seemed to prefer his silence.

"So, now that I was aware, I took my observations to the Headmaster," he continued, sounding progressively more grim. "He told me that he knew already; that he had known all along. Oh, he _assured _me," Severus sneered, "that he had taken precautions so the muggles were never able to go too far, but told me 'some things, normally repulsive, are necessary when the larger picture is considered'."

The expression on the Potion Master's face was almost comically scornful, if Aries had been at all in the mood to laugh. His thoughts raced at the idea that his most hated professor had gotten himself roaring drunk over such a thing. This time, the silence grew awkward, and he scrambled for something to say.

"You are too noble sometimes," he finally muttered.

Sev looked incredulously at him, but Aries just shook his head and left, applying himself to the much simpler task of putting the kitchen back together. His friend did not follow him, and when Aries checked on him – after the last _reparo_ was cast – the other man was asleep.

The time traveler shook his head again. He never would have believed it, as a frustrated 15-year-old. In fact, if someone had told him Severus Snape confronted the Headmaster about his relatives, Harry would have advised them to visit St. Mungo's. Ridiculous, really. But the more Aries learned about Sev, in this new, behind-the-scenes perspective, the more he was grateful for Dumbledore's final bit of advice, and for his own choice to follow it. He still didn't know exactly what would happen, come the end of Harry Potter's sixth year, but he knew now, with a comforting certainty, that Severus Snape was not a loyal Death Eater.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Spring rains had turned the grounds around Malfoy Manor into a soggy mess. Granted, a thousand-galleon, better-than-your-lawn, perfectly manicured soggy mess, but still. Aries clutched the precious parchment in his cloak, knowing the imperturbable charm would protect it, but nervous about the drizzling wetness all the same. The stupid peacocks glanced in his direction, squawked, and looked away. Aries hated the showy birds, so much like Lucius himself, fanning out his ego for all to see. After a quick glance to make sure no one was watching, he stuck his tongue out at the closest peacock, who continued to ignore him.

Malfoy Manor looked massive from the outside, twice the size of the old hideout – the ministry had wasted no time in commandeering the Dark Manor – but the inside was not much bigger at all. Between the wizardspace expansions on the Dark Manor, and the disused portions of Malfoy Manor, it all ended up about the same. Even with the Dark Lord and his entourage taking up their space, their depleted forces barely filled two more rooms. In fact, the Dark Lord used for his main meetings, the larger dining room, which would usually have been used for political celebrations. Naturally, no such celebrations were being hosted by the Malfoys right now.

Aries found his master sitting at the head of the long table, savoring a house-elf prepared meal. It seemed his snake-like face was no hindrance in appreciating the taste and smell of good food, as the Dark Lord had an expression of quiet pleasure, and completely ignored Aries for several seconds in favor of taking one more bite. The Spellsmith knew better than to speak out of turn, so he simply waited, head slightly bowed so he did not appear to be staring.

"Ah, there is nothing better than an elf-prepared meal in an ancient, pure home, and having a loyal friend come to visit," the tyrant finally said, implicitly granting Aries permission to approach.

"I imagine it is even better to learn that friend come with good news," the brunet hazarded. Voldemort's thin-lips spread into a parody of a smile. "I come to you straight from the Office of the Treasury in Gringotts, with a Contract of Neutrality that lies very definitely in our favor."

The Spellsmith-turned-diplomat produced the precious scroll and made to hand it over, but Voldemort indicated that he should read it instead. Feeling somewhat ridiculous, unfurling the scroll in a nearly empty room, Aries nonetheless obeyed and read it aloud like it was a proclamation of victory.

"The Office of the Treasury for Clan Gringotts, speaking as voice for the Confederate Goblin Clans, hereby contracts to remain neutral in any conflicts between the Ministry of Magic of the United Kingdom of Great Britain – as well as any other official wizarding governing bodies within the Gringotts network – and any wizard or coalition of wizards who seek to revolt against said governing bodies. The terms of neutrality are as follows:

1. Wizard-Goblin Relations

A. No goblin shall react favorably or dis-favorably to wizards of either side.

B. Offenses from one wizard toward a goblin will be treated as an offense originating from that single wizard alone, and not from his affiliated side.

C. Offenses from a goblin to a wizard will be handled by the Gringotts complaint department, as per Gringotts rules and laws, not by vigilante retribution from either side. Such retribution will be considered a breach of the neutrality contract.

2. Financial transactions.

A. Prices, Interest Rates, and Loans will be handled on a case-by-case basis, as per Gringotts rules and laws. Credit history will be the sole concern in such determinations, and political affiliation will not be considered.

B. Any fugitives determined by the Gringotts Credit Commission to be political fugitives will retain full rights and access to all gold and holdings within their Gringotts account and vault.

C. Any fugitives not determined to be political fugitives can appeal once to the Gringotts Credit Commission through official channels, and will not be turned over to ministry authorities.

D. In the event the current ministry is overthrown, this policy will still apply; any fugitives from the new government determined to be political fugitives will retain full access to all vaults and Gringotts holdings.

E. Any governments wishing this policy be repealed can appeal to the Gringotts Treasury Office for due consideration.

3. Military action

A. As per this contract, the Confederate Goblin Clans will take no military action for or against either side of the conflict.

B. Wizard attacks on Goblins will be responded to with immediate retribution upon the wizards responsible, and not upon the political side of the guilty wizards.

C. Wizard attacks on Goblins that are determined to have been instigated, ordered, or supported by one of the sides will count as a breach of contract, and the Confederate Goblin Clans will respond appropriately.

D. Wizard attacks on Gringotts property or attempts to steal from Gringotts or a vault not their own will be responded to with immediate retribution upon the wizards responsible, and not upon the political side of the guilty wizards.

E. Wizard attacks on Gringotts property or attempts to steal from Gringotts or a vault not their own that are determined to have been instigated, ordered, or supported by one of the sides will count as a breach of contract, and the Confederate Goblin Clans will respond appropriately.

F. Please submit any and all comments, corrections, or appeals for alteration of this contract to the Office of the Treasury, Gringotts Bank.

We hereby declare this contract valid and ratify it with our signatures – as per Wizard custom – and blood – as per Goblin custom. A copy of this contract has been sent to the appropriate parties on both political sides, and we request either a signature or a blood-letting from said parties, at which time the contract will copy itself again and copies with all signatures will be filed in the Office of the Treasury.

Signed: Garwolf Gringott Head Treasurer of Gringotts Bank, leader of Clan Gringott, President of the Confederate Goblin Clans."

Aries finished with a deep breath and a proud flurry of the scroll as he rolled it back up and held it out. Voldemort's expression was unreadable, but he accepted the parchment and laid it on the newly-cleaned table.

"Tell me, Aries," he asked quietly, "what are your feelings on this…treaty. It is certainly more than we had from the Goblins in the last war, do you feel this is a show of support?"

"I think," Aries began slowly, needing to speak very carefully, lest Voldemort decide he had not done his best, "that it is as close to support as Goblins get. They do not believe in risky investments, so in a human war they will bet on neither side, and will instead take a position that allows them the largest customer base during the war, and a secure customer base no matter who wins. However, if they did not believe we would overthrow the Ministry, they would not even have given us this much."

The Dark Lord considered that for a moment, then turned and pierced Aries with his red eyes. Feeling the deceptively gentle brush of Legillimency, the Spellsmith allowed parts of his conversation with Treasurer Gringott to show through.

_Head Treasurer was the highest position available in Gringotts, and Garwolf had the office to show it. Even by human standards it was enormous, and despite being positioned deeper in the bank than even the oldest vaults, had high, vaulted windows that let in spelled sunlight. The treasurer himself was dressed in traditional Goblin attire – a fine, close-fitting robe, criss-crossed with gilded and bejeweled leather straps._

"_Head Treasurer Gringott," Aries pressed the backs of his hands to his chest – showing he had no weapons – and bowed._

The memory skipped ahead, past the exchange of bragging that accompanied such important meetings, to the actual discussion.

"_Master Daggerlaw of one of our confederate clans asked me to meet with you; it seems you have your hand in the pocket of his grandson," Garwolf growled. Aries had to remember not to snort in laughter at this poor translation of a Gobbledygook idiom indicating a mutually beneficial relationship. The Treasurer probably dealt with few humans, and had little chance to practice proper English._

_ "Crunchmallet has done much for me, and I have done much for him, it is true," he acknowledged. "I will owe him for this favor."_

_ Garwolf grunted in acknowledgment._

_ "Let me make one thing clear to you, Master Spellsmith," the goblin almost sneered his title. "Goblins do not care one whit for your petty human disputes. The ministry, or the current Dark Wizard, it is all the same to us."_

After that, Aries had switched to Gobbledygook, to give the impression he was sympathetic to their concerns. Voldemort, however, neither understood or had any patience for the Goblin language, and the memory skipped ahead again to the formulation of the contract.

_Another goblin – the official scribe and notary – quickly took notes on each proposed addition, then carefully scripted them onto the finer, contract parchment whenever something was agreed to._

_ "You see?" Aries smiled proudly as the final paragraphs were added. "We ask for nothing that you would not give otherwise, we simply want the written assurance that you will not stand against us. You know and I know that there is no love lost between you and the Ministry, but this way, you have extra protection. You don't have to worry about being dragged into the fight by our side, certainly. We will content ourselves knowing that our gold is still safe – and accessible – in your hands."_

_ "Only for Political Fugitives," Garwolf clarified firmly._

_ "Of course," Aries swept the concern away with one careless hand. "We are not criminals, Treasurer, merely a persecuted political minority. You have our thanks for your…gracious accommodation in these matters. When all is settled, none shall forget the noble neutrality of the Goblins."_

Voldemort pulled away then, and seemed pleased. Which was good, because the comment had not made him popular with the Goblins. He had, in two sentences, broke three rules of Goblin etiquette – he had complimented them, been insincere about it (which just made it worse), and then turned the entire peace-talk conversation on its head, basically threatening that the Goblins could claim neutrality all they liked but they were, in fact, helping Voldemort by not upholding Ministry laws. Not in so many words, but he had certainly called their bluff on the matter. If the contract hadn't already been signed, he would not have risked such a huge insult, that was certain.

"You have done well, my Spellsmith," Voldemort hissed gently. "I am ever pleased by your work. I shall sign this momentarily, but first, tell me, have you made any progress in researching time magic?"

Aries hung his head mournfully.

"Very little, my Lord," he admitted. "References to time magic are under heavy Ministry control, so I have been limited to what books I already own, and I admit, it's not an area I studied much before you asked me to." That much, at least, was true – Aries loved learning about different kinds of magic, but when it came to his and Charles'…unique condition, he preferred blissful ignorance.

Surprisingly, Voldemort's smile did not disappear at this news.

"I had anticipated this," he said. "Are you surprised? You should not be, Aries. No, I have foreseen the ends of my plans, and their downfalls. You are to be my backup to a backup, because I know you shall not fail me. No, I have a plan to get you the knowledge you will need."

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries landed the apparition hard, falling to his knees. Sweat beaded on his forehead, a testament to how strenuous the last split second had been. True he had perfected the technique of casting a spell to affect a destination mid-apparition, but 'perfected' in this case mostly meant he both got the spell to work, and didn't splinch himself in the process. The power it took to reach a spell forward through an apparition tunnel, combined with the precision timing, all told it took a lot out of a person, and likely no non-Spellsmith would ever be successful.

But he had done it, and Lucius and the other Death Eaters arrived right next to him, without a sound to announce the illegal apparitions into the deeper levels of the quiet Ministry of Magic.

Lucius led the way at a fast pace – giving Aries no time to catch his breath or shake out the sting in his leg. The ride in the lifts was surreal; none spoke, and the blank masks all stared straight ahead. At the bottom, they filed out, and Lucius pulled Rookwood to the front, forcing him to guide them. The room of doors spun wildly, but the former Unspeakable cast a silent spell and one flashed green and opened, granting them access to the Hall of Time.

As the others ran ahead to the Hall of Prophecy, Aries stayed behind. He spared a glance for the bell-shaped glass dome, watching the tiny hummingbird float helplessly to the bottom, swallowed whole by its shell. Memories washed over him, a sudden thrill of anxiety that made him want to grab what he could and rush from the room. But he had hours; Voldemort had chosen a government holiday, and ordered his Death Eaters to arrive before he sent Harry the vision. The Dark Lord had no way of knowing how long it would take the boy wonder to arrive, but Aries knew Lucius and the others would be waiting until long past sunset.

With such time at his disposal, his master would expect him to be thorough, though he had been ordered to leave at the first signs of Harry Potter's arrival. He started in the obvious place – the cabinet full of time-turners, which would soon be perpetually smashed. The tiny hourglass medallions glittered in the faint light from the dome. They varied in size and luster, but were essentially the same shape. Picking one of the newer ones, Aries turned it over in his hands, then quickly cursed his stupidity and almost dropped it.

But nothing happened.

Genuinely curious, the Spellsmith grabbed the dial on the side and twisted, turning the hourglass over once. Still nothing. He poked his head into the Hall of Prophecy to check for sure.

"Everything all right in there?" he called out in a stage whisper.

"Shut up, you idiot!" Lucius shouted back.

"I guess so," Aries murmured to himself.

Well, that was interesting. He wondered if there was such a thing as 'immunity to time travel'. But if anyone were to have it, he and Charles certainly would. Merlin knew their time-lines were tangled enough as it was.

Looping the time-turner's chain around his neck, he wandered to the next display, now thoroughly intrigued. This was shaping up to be a very interesting evening.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: First of all, just so no one is left hanging, yes this is the end of book five; no Aries does not get to participate in the Battle at the Ministry. Voldemort didn't want to risk him getting captured (and yes, that means he thought Lucius and all the others were expendable), and Aries sure as shooting wanted to be leagues away when Voldemort tried to possess his counterpart.**

**Anyway, let me know how it's going – I've been getting way more reviews for 'Me, Myself, and I' lately than for this, someone must have recommended it somewhere. Drop me a line and let me know what you'd like to see more of, where you think things should go, and all that. Yes, I do have a plan, but some of the best ideas in these stories came from reviews, not from me. So keep up the good work, reviews = muse!**

**PANTZ,**

**Emerson**


	35. HBP Part I

**Disclaimer: **Jo's school, my whiteboard.

**Summary:** A monkey on stilts is jumping hurdles. Your argument is rendered invalid.

**A/N:** Okay, so, I was hoping to get this done a few weeks ago, but I've been on a intensive language study abroad in Japan for six weeks, and the workload was a little bit more than I was expecting. I'm just glad I made it to karaoke a couple times! And I hope you would all agree that, when in Japan, my time is better spent seeing things I can't see in America than stuck at a computer. In any case, I'm back home now. Well, will be, I'm actually writing this from the plane, ain't that a hoot? Oh, and this chapter's summary quote comes from an actual experience at the base of Tokyo tower. Japan. Is. Awesome.

Enjoy the chapter!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 35: Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, Part I

Studying the time-turner was probably the most entertaining bit of research Aries had ever done. Oh it started out quite dull at first. He had tried every way he could think of to get the thing to work on him, just to make sure it wouldn't. After Charles had walked in on him wearing it as a belt and doing somersaults ("I'm just…not going to ask, alright?"), the Spellsmith had settled down with one of the handwritten notebooks he'd cloned from the Department of Mysteries.

Then, quite on its own, a banana had appeared, with the time-turner tied around it.

Startled, Aries looked at the banana, then at the time-turner sitting on the edge of his desk, then back at the banana. One glance over his shoulder at the kitchen area told him that, yes, there was a banana in the fruit bowl.

"Well, at least now I know the time-turner isn't broken," he chuckled, walking over to see if there were any discernable differences between the original banana and the time-turned banana.

As far as he could tell, they were identical – the same shade of yellow, the same tiny brown spots. The Spellsmith took out his notes and jotted down the time the banana appeared and the details, then ate the banana. When an hour had passed, he took the original out of the fruit bowl, wrapped the original time-turner around it and sent it back.

Really, it would have been nothing more than a mildly amusing event, if that had been the end of it. However, over the next few weeks, Aries learned more about time paradoxes than he would have imagined. Shoes, potions, even a newspaper from down the street (Aries had to run to find the right one in time to send it back) all appeared spontaneously over his desk. Once, Charles' pillow appeared on the couch as the redhead himself was fixing tea. Aries still hadn't admitted the full details of his research – he didn't really want another lecture about causality – so he quickly slipped the time-turner off the cushion and into a drawer of his desk.

"Why is my pillow on the couch?" Charles asked as he brought a cup of tea over for the brunet.

"Oh, er…I needed to rest my eyes for a moment," Aries lied quickly, "and it's more comfortable than mine."

He was pretty sure Charles knew it wasn't the truth, but the Auror simply shrugged.

"Of course it's more comfortable," he drawled. "I don't get my things out of the bargain bin at Better Homes and Cauldrons."

By far the most bizarre moment was when the time-turner dropped off a note. The handwriting was strange, and the words were little more than gibberish. Aries searched for an original, and when he couldn't find one, sent the time-turned note back instead. Then he'd needed to sit down quite hard as he realized the note existed in a cycle, without beginning or end, creation or destruction. No wonder time travel was so strictly controlled by the ministry, and only unspeakable were allowed to play with it.

At the end of a solid month of research, he felt he had barely scratched the surface of the time-turner itself, let alone other methods of time travel. Still, when Voldemort called him in the middle of July, Aries gathered up his research notes, eager to share with someone – even if it was the Dark Lord – all he had found.

Malfoy manor was, unlike the last time Aries had visited, bathed in sunlight. The dementors had obviously been told to stay well away from here, and the fog of depression suffocating much of the rest of England was pleasantly absent.

Really, though, it would have been overkill to have an artificial misery, the contents of Malfoy Manor were enough to chase hope away all by themselves. On entering the meeting room, Aries surreptitiously tucked his notes back into a pocket of his robes. He obviously wouldn't need them.

"Aries," Voldemort hissed in pleasure, "do come in; I have a very special treat for you."

The spy turned a blind eye to the four muggles' bodies – dead or stunned, he couldn't tell – and bowed to the tyrant.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

_Aries gripped the armrests of his chair and swallowed. His hands were clammy, and he could feel chills running down the back of his neck. He stared at a chipped corner of McGonagall's desk, avoiding eye contact with all those around him, especially Ron and Hermione._

_ He had meant to admit everything, but here in the headmistress' office, with Dumbledore's portrait looking on, and his two childhood friends already separated by 20 years… He tried to swallow, but found his mouth too dry._

_ The silence stretched on, but no one prodded him to continue. Aries could hear someone fidget to his left, and a nervous cough to his right, and his own blood rushing in his ears._

_ "Headmistress, if I may," Shacklebolt's deep voice slipped into the room. "I believe I have some information about what happened next, though I do implore… Harry… to correct me if I am mistaken." Aries said nothing, and heard no response, but the auror continued, so he presumed McGonagall had given her consent._

_ "In the middle of July, 1996 – the time to which I believe Harry to be referring – a disaster struck the West Country, covered up in the muggle world as a hurricane. I was in the responding team, and we noticed a confusing lack of wounded. Many dead, and many scared, but no wounded. It was at this time the Ministry sent out the pamphlet warning of possible Inferi attacks."_

_ "Yeah, and it wasn't long before the possibility became a reality," Tonks piped in. "But Mad-Eye said it was weird, said it didn't seem the same as the Inferi attacks before, and said he didn't think Voldemort was controlling them this time."_

_ Aries swallowed a hysterical laugh that threatened to send him off the edge. The strangled noise momentarily interrupted the discussion, but when he said nothing, Shacklebolt resumed._

_ "Inferi are notoriously difficult to create and control, because they are dead bodies, and wish for rest," the older auror explained. "That is when I remembered that there was a Death Eater from the first war who was released into the custody of the Spellsmith guild. Like a broom-maker with a broom, a Spellsmith would have the understanding of magic necessary to control the Inferi, possibly even to create them."_

_ "_Create_ them," Aries sneered finally, lip curled in self-hatred. "You talk like I made them out of clay. They are dead bodies, dead _humans_, and I killed them, every last one. I stole their life, then made their corpses into puppets for the Dark Lord." He lowered his head and turned to look back at Hermione. "Do you know how to turn someone into an inferius?"_

_ "Aries," Charles murmured._

" _It's really quite gruesome; you have to cut out their still-beating heart, spill your own blood into the wound, and seal the whole thing with an extremely Dark variant of the Imperius curse."_

"_Aries," Charles repeated, more forcefully._

"_It's said that the victim remains aware for up to seven minutes after the spell, before finally dying."_

"_Aries!" the redhead ordered, grabbing the Spellsmith's shoulder. When the other man finally made eye contact, he said, "That's enough. Stop terrorizing my students."_

_The brunet glared at the defense professor, looking every inch the Death Eater at that moment. Then, in a single breath, he seemed to let go of the false anger that had been holding him together. Deflated and defeated, he glanced back at Hermione again, who looked pale and shaken, but who met his eyes fearlessly._

"_I'm sorry," Aries said softly. He coughed and sat up a little straighter, hurrying on before he lost his nerve. "So yes, Auror Shacklebolt is correct; the night before the West Country attack, Voldemort coached me through the ritual to kill a muggle and turn them into an Inferius. It has to be a muggle, did you know that? A witch or wizard's death is powerful magic by itself, and usually breaks right through the controlling spell. Anyway, the Dark Lord wanted an army of Inferi, but he didn't want to do it himself. He thinks using your own blood weakens you; at least, that's what Dumbledore told me once. So he – the Dark Lord – walked me through the ritual on the first muggle he'd brought, then had me practice on the others so I could do it quickly. All in preparation for the West Country attack."_

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The night air was muggy and stifling; condensation from Aries' breath dripped from the inside of his mask. Nearly a mile away, dementors prowled the front lines, and the Death Eater would almost have taken the depressing effect of their proximity to feel a cold breeze. Instead, he knelt by the Dark Lord's side, trying to listen despite the discomfort to the battle plan.

_Battle plan_, he scoffed silently. _This isn't a battle, it's a harvest._

"…the Giants will enter once the dementors have subdued the populace, and will destroy buildings and incapacitate. Try to kill as few as possible, if you will. After that, my loyal followers, and the werewolves, will collect the wounded. Leave any that are too damaged to be of use. Bring them here, and my Spellsmith will build us an army of Inferi."

Aries stopped a shudder before it could show itself; he would be under Voldemort's watchful eye the entire time, and couldn't afford to show any weakness. He carefully pushed every emotion behind his Occlumency shield, running on sheer autopilot, worried that if he showed any emotion at all, it would be disgust and horror.

A rousing cheer rose from the gathered crowd, and the Spellsmith lifted his eyes to see Voldemort's army raising their arms in praise of their dark master. Voldemort ate up the attention, then cut them off with a single shot from his wand, signaling the start of the night's activities.

It was almost a full hour before the first victims were brought forward. Voldemort surveyed them critically, choosing only the best, and dispatching the rest with cold efficiency. Aries hid behind his occlumency, almost grateful for the practice that would allow him to perform the ceremony without having to pay attention to what he was doing. The Spellsmith didn't even know if his first victim was a man or a woman, it might even have been a child. All he knew was that their blood was warm as it dripped from their heart, before the final spell shrunk the muscle into a cold, hard stone.

After a while, he didn't even hear their screams.

As the night wore on, the blood loss and magical stress started to take its toll. Although he had no idea how many people he had turned into inferi, Aries was quite sure it was more than most Dark manuals would advise in a single sitting. Then again, most Dark manuals didn't seem to consider someone making more than one at a time.

When his wand hand finally started shaking so bad that he failed to perform the sealing spell correctly, the Dark Lord called a halt. The eastern sky was pale and pink, the color of blood watered down by rain.

"You have done very well, my Spellsmith," Voldemort praised, his long, cold fingers clasping Aries' shoulder. "Tell your creatures to come with me, and I will take them where I need them. Then you may go home and rest."

"Thank you my Lord," Aries managed to say.

He picked up the string of heart-stones – now long enough it looked like a nun's rosary – and made another slit in his wrist, letting his own blood flow down the beads. _Go with the Dark Lord, obey his commands_, he thought as each red drop fell from his hand. The undead army turned as one from their murderer to their new master, and then all popped out of existence together. Aries' exhausted mind took several seconds to realize that they had simply disapparated, and that he, too, needed to leave before the aurors arrived.

His head swayed from side to side as the Spellsmith tried to muster enough concentration to apparate without splinching himself. Finally, the sounds of sirens approaching convinced him to give up, and instead he dug his emergency portkey out of the inside pocket of his robes.

"_Fraternita Aeternus,_" he whispered hoarsely, blacking out as he felt the familiar tug on his naval.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Charles hated paperwork. Hated it with a passion. He would have once stated with certainty that being an Auror would require less paperwork than being in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office, but he would have been wrong.

As one of the first on the scene at the Brockdale Bridge collapse, he had his own First Responder form to fill out, along with dozens upon dozens of witness reports, accompanied by just as many Verification of Obliviation forms, and Muggle Spell Injury Status reports, including a couple of Muggle Healing Post-Authorization forms. Kingsley had mercifully taken a pile and retreated to his own office, but Tonks had just smirked at him and jaunted off, bragging about a date.

Thus Charles was one of the only ones in the office when the alarm sounded. Or rather, alarms, because the Magical Law Enforcement Office had an alarm for everything; currently, the Spell in Muggle Area alarm, Dark Magic alarm, and Restricted Creature Out of Area alarm were all blaring. Charles cursed, threw down his quill, and went to get Kingsley.

By the time they apparated to the West Country, all was quiet, save the terrified sobs of the survivors, huddled on the far edge of the destruction. Whoever had instigated the attack had obviously hidden their presence until the very last moment. Charles' breath caught in his throat at the sight of rubble where homes and buildings should have been. He had imagined a dementor attack, or maybe Fenrir's group, not a full-out assault on a defenseless Muggle neighborhood. He cursed again.

"We'll get no sleep tonight," Kingsley commented, he started to walk toward the survivors to take statements, but Charles grabbed his shoulder.

"I'm going back to the ministry to call for backup – we're going to need all the obliviators we can get tonight," he said. "Then I'm going to run and check up on my contact. It can't be good that we didn't have any warning."

Kingsley nodded silently, returning to his work. Charles had admired the man's steadfast dependability for a long time, and was especially grateful for it now, knowing he could leave the other man alone for the time it would take to get extra forces out.

Getting the word out back at the ministry took only a few seconds, but when Charles saw what was waiting for him at the Safe House, he thought those few seconds might have been too long. It was only as his eyes adjusted to the dark and he could see the bloody mass of robes rise and fall with the rhythm of breathing that his heart rate returned to something resembling normal.

"Aries, you prat, that better not all be your blood," he grumbled, gently rolling his friend over onto his back.

A single spell banished the robe and mask to the brunet spy's bedroom, and the stench that floated up from the uncovered man was so overpoweringly foul that Charles took an involuntary step back. Fear, blood, death, sweat, urine, and the potent magical odor of necromancy told a grim tale of Aries' night.

"Sweet Merlin, what have you gotten yourself into?"

Another spell highlighted any open wounds, and at first Charles thought he had gotten it wrong, as both Aries' arms lit up bright yellow. Another moment's inspection, though, and he realized that there were literally dozens of lacerations, each about an inch long, up and down both limbs. Cursing roundly, the Auror summoned a washrag from the bathroom, wetting it with a quick _aguamenti_, and gently washing some of the grime from the wounds.

Blood and filth fell away, slowly at first but faster as the water soaked in. Aries, thankfully, was far enough gone from blood-loss that he didn't even flinch as Charles dragged rough cloth over abused skin. When he reached the fingers of the Death Eater's left hand, he noticed something curled up on the floor beneath the limp palm. Picking it up, he found a string of blood-soaked beads. Between the Malfoy library of Dark tomes and his training as an Auror, he instantly recognized Inferi hearts, and his mouth went dry.

"By all the magic, how many are there?" he wondered, taking in the long string with morbid fascination. "I guess that explains all the cuts."

A groan from Aries prompted him to finish the job, and he carefully traced each line with his wand, sealing the skin.

"Why am I always doing this," he muttered to his unconscious friend, "up to my elbows in your blood, picking up the pieces of your latest trip into insanity. I need to hurry back to Kingsley; do me a favor and stay unconscious until I get back. Or at least don't up and go anywhere until I can get the whole story from you."

Casting a cleansing charm at himself, the Auror took one last look at Aries, then spun back to the West Country.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

When Charles next saw Aries, the brunet's wounds had healed, but he looked no healthier. In fact, for the next several weeks, he became paler, and lost weight, until he looked like a bare imitation of the man Charles was used to relying on. Worse, Severus was following suit. Something – the Potions Master hadn't told them what had happened – had shaken him up near the middle of the summer break. He had been quiet and withdrawn ever since.

The Auror was at a loss for how to help his friends. Aries was now farther into the Dark Arts than Charles had ever ventured, and Severus had never been as open with him as with his fellow spy. Really, he felt that more than anything else they just needed a pause from the real world.

Well, even if he didn't know exactly what was wrong, perhaps he could at least do that much. A week before school would start again, Charles left a note for each of them at the Safe House.

_Your presence is requested here on the evening of August 30. Dinner will be provided. Attendance is mandatory. Aurors will be called on anyone not here by 8PM._

_Sincerely,_

_Charles_

Perhaps he needn't be so forceful, but if either of his friends skipped out, he fully intended to call in a couple favors to 'encourage' them.

The day of, the redhead grabbed some take-away from the Leaky Cauldron (nineteen years and he still wasn't willing to cook for others). A warm meat pie and some firewhiskey should loosen their tongues.

Back at the Safe House he found both of his friends already there. Well, perhaps 'the lights on, but nobody home' would be more accurate. Aries was sitting at the empty table, and Severus on the couch, both with mirrored expressions of people trapped in their own thoughts. Neither man glanced at him as he set down the food, so Charles didn't bother calling out a greeting. Honestly it was like having two store mannequins over for dinner – Muggle mannequins at that, because the magical ones moved every few minutes. In worried silence, the redhead set the table with food and plates, but when the pitcher of firewhiskey came out, he reached into his robe pocket and withdrew a small vial he had smuggled from the Auror's office. After all, he doubted they would notice a single drop of veritaserum missing.

"Alright, you miserable lumps, dinner's ready," Charles declared, plopping the spiked drink on the table next to the meat pie.

Aries dutifully, if a bit robotically, began to serve himself, and Severus swooped over from the couch, retreating into his 'dungeon bat' persona. Both poured large glasses of the firewhiskey, and neither noticed that Charles had banished his cup. The Auror considered feeling guilty for taking advantage of his friends' feeling of safety in their secret flat, but the veritaserum would be so diluted, and the food in their stomachs would ease the effects as well, so he really just ended up feeling clever.

"So," he began hesitantly, once both men had drained their first cups, "Severus, how is the Defense position?"

"It would be tolerable, if not for the Potter brat and Dumbledore's impending death," he growled, then lost nearly all color as he stared at his glass. Charles' spoon fell to the floor and Aries' head shot up, showing the first bit of emotion that evening. "You drugged us, you miserable, slime-eating scum!"

"How dare you," Aries challenged hoarsely, standing up and planting both hands on the table. Charles suddenly noticed the brunet was holding his wand. "I should kill you for this, slowly, curse you to the depths of misery until you beg for mercy."

The redhead was stunned, and could only watch as a blood red hue flashed in his friends' eyes. Aries raised his wand, seeming fully intent on following through with his threats, but Severus put a hand on his shoulder and called his name. The light came back to Aries' eyes then, and his arm sagged, as if the thin wand were suddenly quite heavy.

"Calm down," Severus continued, low voice soothing in the strained silence. "I think this was Charles' way of asking us to open up and share what has been troubling us. Heavy handed and deceitful though it was," here the Potions Master threw a glare Charles' way, "his intentions were good. We are in the Safe House, after all, and nothing said here goes beyond these walls."

Aries dropped his wand suddenly, as if it had burned him, then sat, putting one hand over his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he apologized, "I didn't mean –… I wouldn't have –"

"Yes you would," Charles interrupted him, regaining his composure. "And I bet that's part of what's been bothering you, isn't it?"

The spy's silence was as good as any confession.

Charles let out a frustrated sigh.

"Do you even remember what I told you all those years ago when you started this bloody mess?" he asked, voice gruff. "If you hold everything inside, it's _going_ to kill you. I have an idea what you've gotten yourself into, and really Dark stuff like that poisons you from the inside. It leads to overreactions, like that delightful display a moment ago."

"You don't think I know that?" Aries' voice had dropped into a low sneer. "Such wisdom from the _Auror_ amongst us."

The brunet jumped when Severus' hand landed on the table with a harsh sound of glass against wood.

"I can't believe you didn't ask me for this sooner," the Potions Master sneered, revealing a vial of royal purple brew. "Charles is right, this is killing you. How many inferi did you make?"

"I lost count," Aries muttered defensively, shrinking against his seat. "What would it matter anyway? The punishment for three dozen is the same as for one."

"The world isn't made up of Azkaban sentences and Orders of Merlin, Aries," Charles sighed, resting his forehead against one hand. "The effect on your own magic, on your _soul_, is different. Take your potion."

"What is it?" he demanded, looking between the potion and Severus like he thought his fellow spy would poison him.

_Merlin_, Charles thought morosely_, it's like looking at a different person. If Harry had known he would end up like this, would he have ever taken this route? _

His morose thoughts were interrupted by Aries picking up the vial with two fingers and examining it closer. Severus must have explained his creation – a variant of the magic-draining potion Charles had given him right after graduation, specifically oriented to drain the effects of prolonged Dark Magic use. It wasn't a permanent fix by any means, but it helped to reduce the soul-searing and personality-altering effects.

With a shadow of his reckless, Gryffindor bravery, Aries broke the seal and swallowed the potion, though he retreated to his own room immediately after.

"I'll bring him more tomorrow," Severus promised. "I'm sorry I didn't notice how far gone he was."

Charles hummed noncommittally. After all, he hadn't asked them both to leave off with addressing Aries' issues.

"While he's working through this dose," he said, pointedly pouring Severus another glass of firewhiskey, "why don't you tell me about 'Dumbledore's impending death'?"

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: Okay, so, I don't know why, but I'm actually a little nervous about this chapter. Please tell me what you think, is the pacing still okay, am I going too slow (or Merlin forbid, too fast!), am I keeping people in character, etc… I really got a lot from the reviews of last chapter, thanks so much for all your support guys!**

**PANTZ,**

**Emy**


	36. HBP Part II

**Disclaimer:** Jo's world, I just play here.

**Summary:** Don't ask, just…don't ask.

**A/N:** Ok, so, list of excuses in chronological order: school started, writer's block, original stories demanded attention, and then – oddly enough the thing that got me working on it again – my oldest brother committed suicide. Please send me your condolences and e-hugs, it's a hard time for me and my family right now. We miss him so much, and it's only been a week since we found out. Christmas is going to be really hard.

Okay, deep breath, please enjoy the chapter.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 36: Aries Hesuchazo and the Half Blood Prince Part II

It took a full two weeks for Aries to complete his Dark magic leeching treatment at Severus' direction. Charles wondered if he perhaps should have used a bit more moderation during the Gryffindor's near miss with Home Binding, rather than doing the whole treatment in one night. He couldn't exactly ask; explaining why on Earth such an issue would occur…well it would just be too complicated.

Once the Spellsmith was released with a clean bill of magical health, Charles relayed everything Severus had told him about Dumbledore. Apparently, the old headmaster trusted his potions master just as much as he always said he did. Severus told them that Dumbledore had injured himself with a cursed ring during the summer, and only quick intervention prevented him from dying right then.

"He only has, at most, a year to live," Severus had admitted, "and he already knew about the younger Malfoy's assignment. To spare Draco from getting blood on his hands, and to spare himself from a slow, torturous death should someone else get their hands on him, he has asked me to kill him."

He refused to say more, and Charles had been grateful for a break then, to give him time to absorb his new understanding of that awful sixth year. While he had been plotting the old man's death, Dumbledore had been quietly planning to save him, while preparing to die anyway.

Aries took the news much less quietly. His emotional state was ragged enough that, upon hearing of Dumbledore's plots from Charles, he burst into loud, messy tears. Shocked, the redhead just looked at his friend, then conjured a handkerchief and pushed it awkwardly into Aries' hand. As abruptly as the crying had started, it stopped, and the Spellsmith wiped off his wet cheeks.

"Well that was embarrassing," he commented, voice thick from sobbing. "I am really relieved, though. I've been dreading this day for 19 years," suddenly his voice jumped an octave and took on a squeaky tone that made Charles cringe, "I'm so glad to know that he really is good." He sniffled and whimpered into the Auror's handkerchief. "Sorry."

"Yes, well, erm," Charles stammered, unsettled. He coughed and stood, looking pointedly in another direction. "I'll let Sev know that emotional instability is a side effect of prolonged use of his potion, and we'll just both hope this isn't permanent."

"Right," Aries agreed, laughing a little and continuing to hide his face. "I'm also going to hope for some memory loss, if that's alright with you."

Charles laughed heartily, feeling better than he had in months.

"You do that, mate."

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Aries felt awful for another week after that conversation. Any spell more difficult than _wingardium leviosa _made the scars on his arms ache, and whenever he thought about Severus or Dumbledore, Inferi or Horcruxes his throat started to close and tears sprang to his eyes as if someone had conjured them. It was ridiculous, and his face burned with humiliation at the very thought of being Called in such a state.

Thankfully, time and patient Occlumency practice got rid of that particular side effect. Cathartically, he wrote an entry in his journal, the one from his school days that he kept locked up tighter than the Crown Jewels.

_Dumbledore asked Snape to kill him. I'm so happy, and I know I shouldn't be. But Dumbledore has been dead for me almost twenty years. I knew he would die again. But to know his final words were not a plea for mercy, ignored by a traitor, and were instead a final wish, fulfilled by a reluctant friend. I feel like shouting for joy that I do not have to turn my back on him, the man I consider one of my closest friends. Dumbledore will die in less than a year, but my trust in Severus will still be alive._

He left the entry unsigned, as all his others had been, and locked it back up.

Somewhere in the English countryside, leaves turned yellow and drifted to the ground, only to be covered by a layer of slushy snow. The area of London where Aries lived didn't see much of that. Most of the leaves ended up in the gutter, and there was slush, but it was black from car grease. It wasn't until early January that Aries received a call for anything other than routine Death Eater rallies and attacks, after which he would take a small dose of Sev's potion and have a lie-in. A large part of him was disgusted at how mundane it all had become, but he pushed through it, hoping for some good news.

The January meeting was inner-circle only. Voldemort updated them on the progress of the war, and laid out plans for a ministry take-over during the summer. It all seemed very…dull. At least, until the meeting was adjourned. Everyone was sent home except for Bellatrix and Aries.

"I have a task for you two," he hissed. "A task only for you; I forbid you to breathe a word of what I am about to say to anyone – even fellow members of the Inner Circle."

Aries and Bellatrix both pledged their undying loyalty and secrecy, although Aries felt he retained somewhat more dignity in the process than had his fellow Death Eater, and listened attentively to the task.

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"What is _that_?" Charles asked, voice soaked in upper-class disgust.

Aries ignored him, making sure the wad of chewed gum was stuck tight to the lamp. He walked across the flat to his bedroom, where he pulled out a second piece of gum and stuck it in his mouth and chewed. Charles had followed him, curious despite his revulsion

As the gum softened, turning into a tasteless rubbery glob, a sudden magic tingle alerted Aries that it was about to activate and he quickly spat it at his bedside table, where the lamp from the other room appeared.

"There had better be some sort of explanation for why you are sticking gum to things and spitting all over the place or so help me I will never share a flat with you again," Charles teased.

"It's Portkey Gum," Aries explained, laughing, eyes bright with success.

"Portkey. Gum," the Auror repeated in disbelief. "Explain, please?"

"Well you know how portkeys work, right?"

"Of course, you pick it up and it takes you somewhere, it's not rocket science."

"Well it is a bit more complicated than that," Aries sat on the bed and picked up the lamp, working on un-sticking the gum as he spoke. "_Portus_, the spell to create a portkey, it actually creates a double of something in the place where you want to go, and you can activate it by touch or activate it by time limit, but either way, when it's activated the original merges with the copy, dragging anyone holding on to it through Extra-Dimensional Time Space to do it. It's quite ingenious, really; same thing probably would have happened to us when we were born if we weren't so different by then, and it's how a time-turner's spatial location spells work."

Charles took that all in, then realized he hadn't really taken in any of it.

"What do you mean, how are any of those things connected – our birth, portkeys, time-turners?"

"Well the universe hates it when there's two of the exact same thing," Aries pointed out, sounding as though this should be perfectly obvious. "I mean, I'm not talking two copies of War and Peace, I the exact same thing in two places at the same time. If we'd come back in time to a time when we already were we'd probably have merged into one person, or the universe would have exploded or something. Luckily, by the time we were born, we'd already taken on new identities, and really _become_ those new identities. I mean, there was that little accident with my animagus form and whatnot, but otherwise we're fine. Time-turners have special protective spells to keep that from happening, but they still use the effect to make sure that, when you use them, you show up near where the time-turner was at the time you end up."

After he ran out of breath, Aries seemed to realize that he'd gotten somewhat off topic.

"Well, anyway, the portkey gum. See, the problem with portkeys is that they _are_ an object, and they're used to _transport_ people," he explained. "But I wanted to transport objects, and I wanted to be able to transport them to any place, and at any time, without having to decide when and where before I cast the spell. So I created portkey gum. I cast the spell, so I create two identical pieces of gum, then I chew one and stick it to the object I want to transport. Now the sticks of gum aren't identical anymore, because one is chewed up, right?" He didn't wait for any answer, but rolled right along, excited about explaining his latest craft. "Right. So whenever I want to summon the object, I just pop the double into my mouth, chew it until I feel the spell start to activate, and then I spit it out and wherever I spit the object shows up!" He held up the lamp in demonstration.

Charles blinked at him, raised an eyebrow, then smirked, sighed, and shook his head before walking out of the room.

Aries thought it was quite unfair that he'd worn himself out jabbering on about portkey theory, and Charles could say that much with just body language. In any case, he was still quite proud of his invention – he'd had the idea years ago, but with his new assignment, he had the impetus.

And if the goblin wondered, a few days later, why the Spellsmith had stuck gum on the golden cup he was delivering to the Lestrange vault, well, goblins weren't paid to wonder.

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Winter snow melted slowly away. The spring rains washed London as clean as they could, unaware that, in a simple flat, in an unremarkable-looking trunk, lay one item of unimaginable evil, along with the keys to finding more. Harry had progressed quite far on his appointed task. Unfortunately, Aries had one more task to complete, and time was running out.

The time travel research wasn't going well at all.

In a drawer of the Spellsmith's desk lay the remnants of the time turner. Aries had taken it apart, pulling spells out and examining them the best he could. He had poured the sand out of the hourglass in the center, but found it to be just sand. Nowhere, in all the workings – in all the spells as complex as any clockwork – was there anything that taught him how to send something through time.

One of the worst parts about trying to craft a time travel spell, Aries thought, was that he knew he would fail. Just as he knew the time-turner worked when the banana appeared, so he knew that each different spell he tried would not work, because no fruit or other small objects he tried to send back ever appeared.

To make matters worse, he was still called on fairly regularly to lead the Dark Lord's inferi. Every time he did, it took him a day to recover from the emotional upheaval caused by Sev's magic draining potion. And every time, he could feel the potion working a little bit less, leaving a bit more of the dark taint in his blood.

The stress was almost back to the level it had been just before he and Draco were sent back in time. Occasionally, it gave him nightmares.

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"_Morsmordre."_

_ There it was, hanging in the sky above the school: the blazing green skull with a serpent tongue, the mark Death Eaters leave behind whenever they enter a building…whenever they murder, cast from his own wand._

_ He stood by the lake, watching cloaked figures circle around a man in white. Dementors one moment, Death Eaters the next._

_ "You fool," Remus said, "is a schoolboy grudge worth killing an innocent man?"_

_ "Vengence is very sweet," Severus countered, pulling out his wand._

_ The werewolf transformed and ran, whimpering into the forest._

_ "Coward!" Harry shouted after his retreating form._

_ "DON'T," shouted Dumbledore._

_ "CALL," Sirius._

_ "ME," Severus._

_ "COWARD!" a young Harry pointed a familiar wand between Aries' eyes – not eleven inches of holly, but longer, yew. The wand of the Dark Lord._

_ They were not by the lake, but in the tower, and suddenly the door burst open and somebody erupted through it and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"_

_ By the light of the Mark, he saw Voldemort's wand flying in an arc over the edge of the ramparts, and Charles was by his side. Another flick of his wand, and Harry was immobilized, leaning against the tower wall. Aries felt relief for a moment, before Charles and Sev turned to face him, wands drawn, faces grim._

_ "Severus," he said, "Severus, please."_

_ Green light flowed like water from Severus' wand, and Aries felt himself falling._

_ "Run, Draco!"_

_ Falling…_

Aries woke with a start to the shift in wards that signified an intruder. Someone who had not been keyed into the protective magic had entered, accompanied by someone who belonged.

Throwing on a housecoat, Aries entered the sitting room just in time to see Draco Malfoy spew all over his rug.

"_Evanesco,_" Sev's voice incanted, and the mess vanished. Aries turned and noticed his friend in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water. No one said anything until the former professor had delivered the drink to Draco, then the two spies locked eyes, and Severus said, "It is done."

Aries nodded, thinking it strange that he should feel hollow inside, as if the grief were new.

"Where am I?" Draco asked, coming up for air. He looked pale and disoriented.

"Somewhere safe," Sev assured him, then turned back to Aries. "Keep him here, I must report to our Lord. I will return shortly."

Aries nodded, but Severus pulled him aside on his way out.

"Aries, I don't know if I shall return, and I don't know what the Dark Lord will want with Draco…"

The Spellsmith intended to assure him, as he had before, that he would stand between the Dark Lord and the things Severus held dear, but in that instant his throat closed up, and he couldn't speak. He nodded, coughed, and nodded again.

"I'll keep him safe," he choked out. "You watch yourself."

Sev nodded curtly, as aware as his friend that such a promise would be difficult to keep, and disapparated.

"Who are you?" Draco demanded, voice a little stronger. "Where am I? I demand-"

Aries cut him off with a voiceless _somnulus_, sending the teen to sleep. His thoughts seemed frozen with the realization that he did not know. He had always known, before, always been completely certain that Severus would survive. But this time, he did not know. His younger self had never seen Severus Snape after this night.

Completely awake now, Aries paced and fidgeted, put a kettle on, but forgot to pour himself a cup. Then poured himself a cup and forgot to put leaves in it. When the clock – a muggle one – chimed 2 AM, he nearly pulled a wand on it. Finally – finally! – someone apparated in, but it was not Severus, it was Charles.

"Sorry I'm late," he said. "Woke up to the Order alarm, and remembered what day it was." He turned and saw his younger self snoozing on the couch. "Cor, I wondered if he'd brought me here. Too much in shock to remember it, myself."

"Charles," Aries gasped out, unable to say more.

The redhead turned toward him, seeing his stricken face, and frowned, confused.

"What's the matter?" he asked. "Has something else happened?"

"You tell me," the brunet whispered. "Tell me what happens after this. I only know my story from here on out."

Charles' eyes softened and he quirked a smile.

"You'd drive yourself mad if you didn't have me around," he affirmed. "Don't worry, we're not getting out of explaining this whole mess to Sev that easily. He'll be back for Draco in the morning. Poor lad'll be stuck in Malfoy Manor with Death Eaters and Voldemort coming and going for the next few months, but it'll turn his head, it will. I know Severus lives, and stays a right-hand man for Voldemort, but I don't know the specifics of his affairs after today."

Relief didn't even begin to cover it. After Charles assured him that he'd set a few more wards and keep Draco asleep, Aries returned to his own bed, thoroughly exhausted by his own frazzled nerves.

Again, he dreamed.

_White fog was blinding him. He had to fight…Expecto Patronum…he couldn't see…and in the distance, he heard the familiar screaming…expect patronum…he groped in the mist for Sirius, and found his arm…they weren't going to take him…_

_ But a pair of strong, clammy hands suddenly attached themselves around Harry's neck. They were forcing his face upward…He could feel its breath…It was going to get rid of him first…He could feel its putrid breath…His mother was screaming in his ears…She was going to be the last thing he ever heard – _

_ And then, through the fog that was drowning him, he thought he saw a silvery light growing brighter and brighter…He felt himself fall forward onto the grass…The blinding light was illuminating the world around him…something was driving them back, circling him and Sirius…_

_ Harry tried to make out what it was…It was as bright as a unicorn…Harry watched it canter to a halt. For a moment, Harry saw, by its brightness, someone welcoming it back…someone who looked strangely familiar…_

_ And then it hit him – he understood. He had seen himself._

_ The point of view shifted across the lack and back in time, and Harry flung himself out from behind the bushes and pulled out his wand._

_ "EXPECTO PATRONUM" he yelled. And out of his wand burst Hermione, looking at him with pride and admiration._

_ "I can't believe it," she said, "you conjured up a Patronus that drove away all those dementors! That's very, very advanced magic…"_

_ "I knew I could do it this time," said Harry, "because I'd already done it…"_

"AHA!" Aries shouted in triumph, shooting up in bed.

Charles came charging in, wand at the ready, only to roll his eyes at Aries' expression of self-congratulation.

"What is it?" he asked. "What great breakthrough have you had this time?"

Aries smiled at him, feeling a little sheepish now.

"Er, well, I think I just figured out how to invent the spell that sent us back in time," he admitted.

The Auror stared at him for a few breaths, then looked at his wand, and gave his head a quick shake,

"No, it would cause a distortion, I'm sure," he muttered, then turned to walk out.

"What would?" Aries demanded, worried about a flaw in his potential spellwork.

Charles didn't stop, but called back over his shoulder, "If I murdered you."

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Sev returned later that morning, as promised, and took Draco back to Malfoy Manor. The boy was distracted from his many questions by the promise that his father would be there to greet him, and it made Aries' heart hurt a little to think of how soon his young not-quite-friend would be separated from his father again.

Charles accepted a request from the new Headmistress of Hogwarts to apply for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Despite having no experience teaching, or even tutoring, he easily earned the spot, given that his only competition was a young man who turned out to be confunded, obliviated, and imperiused. As soon as the poor lad was admitted into St. Mungo's, McGonagall had Charles sign the paperwork.

The former Auror was quite shocked when he received an owl from Severus, asking if he would be willing to teach Draco defense via correspondence. He agreed, but only on the condition that it be kept completely anonymous.

Aries tested his theory on the time-travel spell in a patch of woods that he knew hadn't been disturbed in years. He was quite excited to arrive and find the small brick he had brought to send back in time waiting for him, looking significantly more weathered. An age test showed that the brick was actually only ten years older, give or take a few weeks, but he solved that problem on the second test by adding a second wand wave to the spell.

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_"And the rest, as they say, is history," Aries finished, leaning wearily against the armrests of his chair._

_ Part of him wanted desperately to look around and see everyone's reactions, but the larger part of him didn't dare make eye contact with anyone. Charles came to his rescue._

_ "Yes, well, it's been a lovely chat," he drawled, standing, "but I'm afraid it's quite late. Aries and I have an appointment tomorrow that we would hate to miss, but you are free to submit any questions to us by owl at a later date."_

_ No one said anything or tried to stop them as the two returned time-travelers walked away, back to Charles' quarters, to get what little sleep they could before facing Severus at the Safe House the next day._

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**A/N: The next chapter should be posted pretty soon. I've actually got most of it written already. Now that we're back to the present, it'll only be a couple of chapters left until the story is finished, and I have to say, I can't wait to get this thing over with. I'm pretty proud of this story, but I'm ready to move on.**

**Thank you for all your support over the years.**

**PANTZ,**

**Emerson**


	37. Running out of Time

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, I just play here.

**Summary:** A duck and a chicken steal a monkey's pants…

**A/N: **blah blah blah excuses, blah blah blah

Thank you for all your words of support. It's rough going sometimes, but we're making it.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 37: Running Out of Time

The Safe House was empty. Very empty. There weren't even any booby traps waiting, which made the web of shields and counters Aries had woven around himself seem superfluous and paranoid. And yet he had been _sure_ that Sev would leave at least one little 'present' lying around, something to alert him when Aries and Charles got there.

"Severus, we're here!" the Spellsmith shouted, just in case.

Nothing.

"Aries, he's not here," Charles said, crossing to Sev's bedroom. "And I don't think he's going to make it today."

"What makes you say that?" Aries asked. "Sev's very punctual, especially when it comes to revenge. He never misses an appointment for vengeance." He followed Charles to the doorway, but stopped, feeling guilty at the thought of entering without permission.

"His robes are gone," Charles gestured to the opened trunk lid, "and so is his stash of potions, the ones he doesn't want the Order poking into."

"_Those_ potions?" Aries swallowed.

Sev had been gradually building up his stash for years now, to keep anyone from getting suspicious. He had never told Aries or Charles what it was for, but Aries had privately dubbed it his Last Resort Store. If they were gone, and Sev wasn't back from the meeting last night…

Aries cursed, loudly, and disapparated, arriving just barely on the outside of Hogwarts' wards. He transformed into Cloak and ran full out for the castle, connecting to Hogwarts again and pleading with her to help him find Remus. The castle ushered him on, opening the necessary passages as he got to them, and, barely five minutes after he'd left the Safe House, he found the werewolf staring out a window near Gryffindor tower.

"Remus!" he shouted, shifting back mid-step. "When's the next full moon?"

"What?" Remus asked, startled by his sudden appearance.

"The next full moon, when is it?" Aries repeated. "A week, tomorrow, when?"

"Sunset, the day after tomorrow," the bemused werewolf answered. "Why?"

Aries just cursed again and turned for the owlery. Voldemort had a very large pack of werewolves at his command, and a potions master who could brew Wolfsbane in his sleep. Put that together with the unscheduled meeting Aries had missed last night, and Sev's potions…

Basically, he had two days to make sure the Battle of Hogwarts was more than the Massacre of Hogwarts.

The Spellsmith reached the owlery, leg aching and out of breath. His eyes locked on the long-awaited sight of a white snowy owl against the background of the plain, brown school owls.

"Hedwig," he called, holding out one arm for her to land on. "Here girl."

Hedwig turned at the sound of her name, head cocked to one side in confusion. Aries stepped forward, lifting his arm closer to her. She screeched and took flight, but rather than coming for him, the owl flew up to the rafters, screeching and hooting like he was trying to kill her.

Ignoring the sharp stab of disappointment, Aries called a few school owls instead. They waited obediently as he scratched out his letters.

_Dear Arion,_

_ Mars' ascension is at hand. I know my course and destined fate, but some are not so tightly bound. I seek an audience with the herd of the Dark Forest near Hogwarts before the full moon. None should set their hoof against the stars, but all should remember that what the stars say and what they mean may differ by the scents on the wind._

_ Your Friend,_

_ Aries Hesuchazo_

_ Once known as Harry Potter_

_Dear Crunch,_

_ The gilding has sloughed off, and lead is underneath. Should Voldemort win, he will prove immortal, and all the profits of all the goblins will turn to debts. Speak to all the clan heads you can find before this full moon. I will fight the head, but for the sake of all that is dear under the earth, the goblins should work on bankrupting the body. The battle will be at Hogwarts._

_ Yours in gold,_

_ Aries Hesuchazo_

_ AKA Harry Potter_

_PS: I, Harry Potter, as an official representative of the forces opposed to Voldemort, stole a goblet of immense value from the vault of one Bellatrix Lestrange. According to Article III, section E of the Goblin-Human Neutrality Contract, this constitutes a breach in treaty, and the goblins are free to choose a side as they wish._

_Dear Master Tobin,_

_ The Uroborus is finished. If you are interested, there will likely be a get-together of old and past associates around Harvest moon. I expect it will be a rowdy time._

_ Sincerely,_

_ Master Aries Hesuchazo et al. _

Satisfied that the messages would get across, Aries cast privacy spells over the most confidential words, and a haste spell over the lot. Confident they would at least arrive on time, he gave the letters to the owls, telling them where they could find the addressees. As they bobbed their heads and flew out the window, Aries looked up at Hedwig, who truly seemed to be glaring at him now, and left.

What else did he need to do? He counted the Horcruxes in his head – the journal, destroyed; the ring, destroyed; the cup, at the Safe House; the diadem, in Charles' quarters; Nagini, with Voldemort (that was going to be a problem); and the locket…

"Kreacher!" Aries called, hoping the time travel hadn't affected his ownership of the elf. There was a pregnant pause, then the elf appeared with a pop.

"Master is different," he muttered, "Kreacher hardly recognizes master, is he still a miserable Muggle-lover?"

"Kreacher, I need to talk to you," Aries sat on the floor, so he could see the elf better. "I need you to tell me what happened to Regulus."

"You is wanting to know about good master Regulus?" Kreacher croaked, eyes wide.

"Yes," Aries encouraged him. "You see, I was his friend once, and I know he did something very brave. Could you tell me about it?"

"Oh yes, Kreacher will tell master all about good master Regulus and how brave he was."

At the end of the story, Aries' chest ached, and Kreacher was in tears, but the Spellsmith pushed on. He didn't have enough time to be sympathetic.

"Kreacher, you were a good elf, to protect the necklace so well," he praised. "Where is it now?"

"Oh Kreacher is not a good elf, Kreacher should beat himself with a plunger!" the elf moaned. "The miserable thief that master Sirius let into Mistress' house stole the necklace, even though Kreacher screamed and bit him. Kreacher is a bad elf, Kreacher has failed Master Regulus!" Kreacher started banging his head against the wall and stubbing his toes, until Aries pulled him away by the hem of his loincloth.

"It's alright," he said, though inside he was coming up with new and inventive curses based around the word 'dung'. "We can still get it back; do you know where Mundungus Fletcher is right now?"

"Kreacher knows, master," he nodded helpfully. "Shall Kreacher bring him to you, sir?"

"You can do that, even through the wards?"

"Elf magic is at our master's beck and call – elves do whatever Master commands."

Aries set Kreacher down on the floor again. He remembered his professor at Uni saying how the limits to Elf magic had never been properly tested. "As far as we can tell," he had explained, "their limits are only the limits of their bond-master's imagination. Since humans are, by and large, unimaginative gobs, no one really knows what they can and can't do."

"Alright," Aries breathed, rubbing his clammy hands on his robes. "Do it, bring him here."

Kreacher bowed low, showing Aries more respect than the Spellsmith could remember him showing anyone, and disappeared with a loud CRACK. Moments later – after Aries had glamoured himself into a young Harry Potter, paced the hallway three times, bit one spot on his lip until it bled, and checked his watch twice – the elf reappeared, dragging a struggling pile of smelly cloth by the ear.

"Mundungus Fletcher you nefarious pickpocket, I would hang your head on the wall with Kreacher's ancestors, if it wouldn't dishonor them," he growled, binding the thief as Remus had him.

"Who- Harry? What- what's going on?" Dung stuttered. "I didn't do it, I tell you, honest!"

"Oh really?" Harry pulled his head up by the hair, forcing him to make eye contact, and conjured a little illusion of the locket. "I suppose you don't recognize this, then? But why would you? It was just another trinket, wasn't it; just another memento of a poor orphan's dead godfather that you stole from a simple house elf. Why would you remember that?"

Harry rather thought that the 'poor orphan' tactic might not work while he was trying to bodily intimidate the man, but Dung had just enough good in him, it seemed (he _was_ trying to help Dumbledore, after all) to feel remorse. As the combination of guilt and terror turned the thief's beady eyes watery, Harry decided he had made his point and let go of the greasy locks.

"I need that locket, Dung," he said, much more softly, hopping to play his own 'good cop'. "I'd even pay you fair price for it."

"I wish I could give it to you, honest I do," Dung licked his lips anxiously, looking around the hall as if for escape. "I…I don't have it no more. Sold it months ago, I did." Harry didn't even have to ask who Dung had sold it to, the pathetic man was so eager to appease him. "Sold it to a short, plump witch what looked like a toad. Had a pink bow in her hair. Well, didn't so much sell it to her as she blackmailed me into giving it away; nasty piece of work, she was. But I don't know her name, I swear!"

Harry cursed mentally, lips set in a firm line.

"That's okay, Dung," he ground out. "I do."

Dolores Umbridge. Why did it have to be Dolores Umbridge? The Spellsmith absentmindedly released his prisoner, paying him no heed as he scurried away.

"Of all the foul cesspools of ministry corruption," he growled to himself. "Why her?" He cursed aloud this time, making Kreacher jump. Cancelling the glamour, Aries waved the elf away. "You did a good job, Kreacher; head back to the kitchens for now."

Kreacher bowed low and disappeared with another CRACK.

With a sigh of frustration and resignation, Aries turned away from the owlery and marched toward Charles' office.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The Defense Professor stared, bemused, at the spot in the shared flat where his friend had stood. Aries rarely explained his emergencies until they were no longer emergencies, or until he needed favors – and it was quite clear Severus was not going to be coming – so Charles sighed and apparated to the Leaky Cauldron, from which he flooed to his office.

McGonagall had been pleasantly accommodating and had allowed Kingsley to take over his classes for the day, but that had not removed the stack of ungraded papers from Friday weighing down his desk. Another heavy sigh and the former Auror took a seat, deciding he could let off some steam by flunking Crabbe and Goyle.

He had given the seventh years a report from the Auror records office of the fight where Mad-Eye Moody lost his eye (though he had changed the names of all involved) and assigned them an essay on what they would have done differently and why.

Crabbe had written "I would have worn goggles so my eyes wouldn't get hurt."

Goyle had simply said "I would have gotten them before they could get me, that way I would win."

With no small satisfaction, the defense teacher scrawled bright red T's on the top of each scroll, including comments such as "Do you always wear goggles when dueling, or are you precognitive now? Four inches on how wearing goggles would have affected the battle, or you fail this assignment." and "I do believe that 'getting them first' was the intention of the Aurors in the story. Three inches minimum on actual spells or tactics you would have used, unless you want a failing grade."

He looked over a few more – Longbottom had some practical insights on safety in numbers, and Susan Bones pointed out a few articles of ministry policy that should have been followed – and was just considering tackling Granger's monstrous essay when the door to his office clicked open.

"That was fast," he commented as Aries shut and locked the door behind him, leaning against the door jam. "Something must have gone wrong – I wasn't expecting you for another hour or two at least."

"I need your help," Aries admitted.

"Well, obviously. In what capacity, specifically?"

The Spellsmith lifted his wand and an image of a necklace appeared in front of it. Charles leaned closer, examining the emerald-studded 'S' design with interest.

"Dolores Umbridge has this necklace," the brunet explained. "It's one of the Horcruxes. We need to destroy it before the full moon, two days from now, because Voldemort's going to attack."

The redhead felt his heart sink to hide somewhere behind his liver.

"Oh," he managed, mouth suddenly dry. "Right. Well, I'll work on that then. But you really must tell Minerva."

Aries heaved a resigned sigh.

"I suppose I must," he conceded, but then warned, visage darkening, "If you haven't returned with the locket by tomorrow morning, I'm going to take it by force."

Charles slapped his hand on his desk, breaking a quill in the process.

"Aries, you can't," he declared firmly. "They'll put you in Azkaban the second Voldemort's gone if you murder a ministry employee."

"I'm already headed for Azkaban, with all I've done. What's one more charge?"

"Look, Aries–"

"Don't," the spy interrupted, turning his back. "Just…get the locket. Please."

Charles sighed, lowering his head to stare sightlessly at the essays and broken quill in front of him. Aries hadn't been nearly this…fatalistic before the Inferi assignment, but Charles was at a loss of how to help his friend.

"I'll bring back the locket," he promised, "just don't do anything stupid while I'm gone. I still know the spell to bind you to a troll's bum if you get yourself killed."

Aries smirked slightly, nodded at him, and left.

The former auror groaned and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. Great. Now, on top of grading essays and assuaging Snape, he had to steal a necklace from a toad-woman so that Aries didn't kill her and the world as they knew it ended because Voldemort couldn't be killed. Why had he wanted to get mixed up with Harry Potter again? He couldn't remember for the life of him.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries trudged up to the Headmistress' office. He wasn't looking forward to her drilling him for information – again – especially not when he still had so much to do. But Charles was right, Minerva and the Order deserved to know and prepare just as much as he did, especially as the younger students would have to be evacuated. His mind flashed to the children, studying obliviously while he dallied, and he quickened his pace. By the time he reached the gargoyle statue, he was nearly running.

The gargoyle leapt aside as he approached, and the Spellsmith hurried up the stairs, sending a mental 'thanks' to Hogwarts. The Headmistress' door was halfway open, and she was talking to a pair of students – second or third years, Aries guessed – gently berating them for some infraction or other. He knocked politely and poked his head in.

"I know you can do better, boys, and I hope to see my expectations met. Now, back to class with you." The headmistress stood, shooing them out. "Aries, to what do I owe this visit?"

She motioned for him to sit, but he declined.

"Bad news, I'm afraid."

Minerva sighed and leaned back in her chair, looking more exhausted than Aries had ever seen her.

"I can think of only a few things that could make this situation worse, young man," she said wearily. "Has the media or ministry received word of your true identity, or are we dealing with Voldemort this time?"

Aries smirked in amusement that Minerva thought of public opinion as an enemy on par with the Dark Lord, but his face fell again a moment later.

"We can expect Voldemort's army on our doorstep as soon as the full moon rises."

"But that's…" Minerva frowned.

"Two days from now," Aries confirmed. "I have begun preparations already, and suggest you do the same."

The Headmistress stood again, her shoulders square, and nodded firmly.

"Very well," she said. "I will call in everyone we have. But know this: all the Aurors in the ministry and all the good witches and wizards in the Order will not stand a chance against Voldemort. We will take care of his army, you must take care of him."

"Trust me," Aries looked her in the eye, "Voldemort will not live three days from now."

Her face softened slightly, her eyes twinkling in a manner reminiscent of Dumbledore.

"My dear boy," she said, "I would trust no one else."

Aries didn't know what to say to that. Such a show of good faith was entirely unexpected after telling his life story. He coughed awkwardly, then turned and left. Not running away, mind, he just had…matters to attend to. Right.

A side trip to the owlery confirmed that his desired allies had not replied yet – and Hedwig was still angry with him – so he continued on down to the grounds, heading for the lake. From a pocket of his robes he produced a wad of gillyweed. The rubbery plant was as difficult to chew now as it had been in his fourth year, though he now had considerable more practice. The Spellsmith shucked off his robes, weaving a quick warming and drying charm into them for when he emerged, and dove into the water, feeling the gills on his neck and webbing between his fingers grow even as he dove deeper.

Hogwarts Lake was big, as lakes went, but the merfolk village at its depths was smaller even than Atlantis University had been. It took him several minutes of darting among the kelp forests and rocky outcroppings before he finally recognized an Achtish Mung. A handful of mermen and women had been lounging about drinking Cafta before they noticed him; now they were warily watching his progress, tridents and spears in hand.

"_Calm waters_!" he called in mermish, raising his empty hands to emphasize peaceful intentions. "_I come to talk, nothing more._"

The merfolk looked at each other, then one – a well-scarred, green skinned merman – swam up to meet him, three-pronged weapon held at the ready.

"_Human village-swim, talks big stuff Atlantis?_" he asked.

It took Aries a moment to understand; he should have known these merfolk would have a different dialect of mermish than Atlantis. He hoped it would be close enough.

"_Yes, I studied at Atlantis University,_" the Spellsmith responded, trying to enunciate around the chewy bits of gillyweed that were allowing him to breathe. "_I come with important news from up above._"

"_Man-swim know dead white-fin school-king?_" a mermaid asked from behind the spokesman.

"_Dumbledore was my friend, he would want you to hear what I have to say._"

The merman considered him, then grinned, showing rows of pointed teeth. He switched his trident to a less threatening position and gestured for Aries to follow him as he swam back to the Achtish Mung.

Relieved – the gillyweed would only last an hour – Aries took his position at the focal point of the clamshell-shaped enclosure. He waited a moment for a few more merfolk elders to arrive – evidently summoned by the other merfolk who had seen him at first – then began.

"_How much do you know of Voldemort?_" he asked.

"_White-fin School-king not like no-death wizard, but is floating problem, some say_," the green-skinned merman answered dismissively. Floating problem meant a problem for those on the surface, one that didn't reach the merfolk. In other words, he thought it didn't matter.

"_If the wind blows or the boats sail, that is a floating problem_," Aries retorted. _"If no-death wizard kills the goodness of Hogwarts, that is a deep problem. No-death wizard only likes pure wizards, anyone else – centaur, merfolk, and no-magic humans – are slaves or worse to him. He would kill your village or chase you out and put walking dead-humans instead._"

The merfolk roared at this, clearly upset, and Aries' ears hurt from the pressure of the watery noises.

"_Village is and will be,_" the green merman declared, louder than any of the other. He waved his trident aggressively in the water. "_Our lake is ours, no wizard or above-beast comes in. Protect home-village!"_

Again the merfolk roared their agreement, and Aries had to wait for the noise to subside before he could continue.

"_That is all I ask,_" he encouraged. _"When the full moon rises, two days from now, Voldemort will attack. I wanted to warn you what could happen. Thank you for listening._"

The merman spokesman surged forward then, and Aries reared back, half-expecting to feel a trident point stick into his ribs. Instead, the merman grabbed his forearm with one webbed hand.

"_Hogwarts and home-village like clamshell top and bottom,_" he spoke fiercely, and Aries was shocked to see fear in his eyes. "_Man-swim protects top shell, village-people protect bottom shell._"

"_Right,_" Aries nodded. "_I will have an army up-above_."

"_And_ w_e will have the monsters of the deep down below._"

Aries laughed – the merman was perfectly capable of speaking the Atlantian dialect. His gillyweed was almost gone, though, so he simply returned the merman's grip for a moment, then pushed off the rocky floor, swimming hard for the surface. His head broke the water just as the gills disappeared, which left him swimming for shore with no protection from the chill. By the time he reached his robes, his teeth were chattering and his fingers were almost purple, but the warming and drying charms were still going strong.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: Please don't kill me for delaying the meeting with Sev. I know almost all of you were dying to see what would happen, and I promise they will meet up eventually, and likely a few fists will be thrown, but it won't be for at least a couple chapters more.**

**So…I'm gonna go work on the next chapter. In a secret bomb shelter with a cheeseburger and a towel.**

**PANTZ,**

**Emy**


	38. Marching on to Battle

**Disclaimer:** Jo's world, I just play here.

**Summary: **Stuff happened, and then stuff happened because of that stuff, which caused the original stuff.

**A/N:** Oh man guys, I can't tell you how excited I am for the climax of this story. Unlike MMI, where I had no idea what was going on chapter to chapter, I've known about most of this stuff for months. Hope you like!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 38: Marching On to Battle

Charles meandered through the ministry, smiling at everyone and stopping to exchange pleasantries with those who recognized him. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to suspect he was there for any urgent business, because in the current climate it was one step from that to 'up to something'. He had a plan A, and it required his victim – the illustrious Umbridge – to be utterly unsuspecting. And he really didn't want to resort to plan B.

His wandering tour brought him, eventually, to the Improper Use of Magic office, to which Umbridge had been relegated during her recuperation from the unfortunate events of the previous term. Scrimgeour was, thankfully, wise enough not to put her back in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, but really, giving her any sort of power was just asking for trouble.

"Dolores, is that you?" Charles exclaimed in surprise, sticking his head into the office. "I didn't know you were working in this office."

"Hmm?" Umbridge peered up at him, confusion evident as she tried to remember his name. "Yes, well, Auror Higgs is it?"

"Higgins," Charles corrected good-naturedly.

"Higgins, yes, well," she simpered, looking embarrassed, "this is where the Minister believes I can do the most good."

Charles helped himself to the guest seat at her desk, looking around the room.

"I'm sure you can do good wherever _this_ minister decides to put you," he commented, as if offhand. "Oh, and it's technically Professor Higgins now; I've had the misfortune of being assigned to your old post."

"Really? How interesting." Umbridge pulled over a scroll and pretended to be reading it intently. Charles smirked inwardly; he needed to bait the hook.

"Merlin, I don't know how you managed to last the whole year," he groaned theatrically. "They're little monsters, the lot of them. Dumbledore let them run absolutely wild, and McGonagall's no better."

Umbridge peeked up at him then. Charles rubbed his temples as if utterly exasperated by something. Sensing an ally, the toad-like woman finally smiled her broad-lipped smile and looked up.

"I'm glad someone else can see what's going on," she cooed. "It was utterly awful working there; any attempts at discipline were met by fierce resistance from the other faculty members. Especially when it came to _Harry Potter_." She said the name in a sarcastically prim tone.

"Ah yes, the 'Chosen One'," Charles sneered. "Did you know that McGonagall has given him a free pass from all classes? If he skips class, we are not to give detentions, take points, or say a word against him, because he has 'important extracurricular tasks fully endorsed by the Headmistress'." It was a blatant lie, and easily disproved, but the redhead only needed her trust for a few minutes more.

"Hmph," Umbridge huffed in disgust. "Who cares if You-Know-Who takes over anyway?"

She seemed to realize she'd said something terribly impolitic, and coughed lightly into her hand, but Charles graciously waved it away with a laugh, as if she'd been making a joke.

"That's all well and good for some who can prove their lineage," he said, "but I would have a hard time of it, American records being what they are. What about you, would you pass muster?"

"I most certainly would!" she insisted, inflating like a frog. "I'm as pure as they come. And if anyone doubts it, well, do you see this?" She pulled a locked with an emerald-studded 'S' out of her robe collar. "This is a family heirloom; the emeralds are hand-cut and the 'S' stands for Selwyn, my ancestral line."

The former Auror betrayed no hint of the greed and triumph he felt as the locket came into view. He glanced at it dismissively, then quirked a doubtful eyebrow.

"That _would_ be impressive, if it were real," he said. "But I'm afraid someone in your family line has been had. It looks from here like those so-called 'emeralds' are nothing more than cut glass. My family owns a few true pieces of jewelry with rare gemstones – I can spot a fake a mile away."

Umbridge paled, knowing she had no real knowledge of whether the stones were emerald or not. She brought the locket up to one bulging eye and squinted at it, then looked rapidly between Charles and the necklace several times.

"Oh here," the former auror sighed, sounding put-upon. "Give it over, and I'll look at it more closely. Perhaps I was simply, er, mistaken."

"Yes, please do," Umbridge practically shoved the necklace into his hands.

It was just the opportunity he'd been waiting for. A flick of his wand and a whispered _Obliviate_ later, and he was out the door.

"Terribly sorry, Delores, but I just don't have time to chat," he said, waving goodbye as Umbridge blinked, dazed and confused. No one stopped him as he leisurely walked away, and just a few minutes later, as the sky dimmed with encroaching dusk, he was enjoying the view from his office window.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Not so very far away, Severus was watching the sun slip below the horizon. His back ramrod straight, hands clasped behind him, he betrayed none of the myriad emotions clashing like a storm within, save the tense readiness of wartime anticipation. His nose twitched, checking the smell of the potions simmering behind him, in the upstairs bedroom of the Shrieking Shack. Enough Wolfsbane to dose forty werewolves had filled all twelve of the Dark Lord's silver cauldrons. A single ingredient added too late, a moment too long on the fire, and the potion would be ruined; Severus had not been allowed to leave for twenty four hours. He had not made it to the Safe House.

He had missed his chance.

The door creaked behind him, and Severus cocked his head just enough to catch a flash of white-blond hair out of the corner of his eye. Lucius walked up beside him, somberly watching the shadows swallow up the houses of Hogsmead.

"One more day," Severus swallowed all traces of fear and spoke instead with restrained eagerness. "The Wolfsbane is nearly finished. Soon Hogwarts will be free of the bad blood, as we spill it on her steps."

Oddly enough, this didn't seem to ease Lucius' dour mood. In fact, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly.

"The Dark Lord has ordered the Death Eaters in the Ministry to cut both Hogwarts and Hogsmead off from the floo network tomorrow night, and he intends to send Nagini to kill the owls," Lucius drawled, sounding bitter. "There will be no warning, no calling for help, and no escape."

Severus frowned as he looked at the other man. Lucius had been brought very low in the last year, but he had never before sounded like he did now…like he wished the whole war would just go away. The Potions Master could only think of one thing that could have brought about such a sudden change…but no one else was supposed to remember…

The Potions Master grabbed the aristocrat's shoulder and pulled him around, glaring chastisingly.

"Watch your tone," he commanded, casting a voiceless _Legillimens_. "You almost sound like there's someone you _want_ to warn in there."

As if he had summoned it, a flickering image of Charles removing his glamour rose to the surface of Lucius' mind, and then it was gone. The blond pulled away, making a show of dusting off and straightening his robes.

"Don't be crass, Severus," he drawled, though his eyes shifted tellingly toward Hogwarts. "I'll let our Lord know of your progress with the potion."

As he watched his colleague leave with all the noble dignity he could muster, Severus couldn't help but pity the man. On the one hand, the spy knew very well how adept Charles was at fighting – his time as an Auror had served the man well – but on the other hand, Severus also knew that, if Potter couldn't figure out how to defeat Voldemort, none of that would matter.

This was an all-or-nothing battle.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The first letter Aries got back was from Arion. It arrived with the morning sun, through the window of Charles' office where Aries had crashed for the night after retrieving the cup from the Safe House. He woke to the sound of wings fluttering against glass, and by the time the owl had landed and thought to tap, the Death Eater – or could he finally claim 'former' now? – was sitting up and waving his wand to let the messenger in.

It was the same school owl with which he'd sent the letter off, and it practically spat the reply into his lap before screeching and flying off. Aries made a mental note that owls weren't particularly fond of haste spells.

_Aries,_ The centaur wrote,

_Centaurs are like the stars of the Milky Way. From far away, we may look like a single stream of connected lights, but we are, in reality, separate, and unconnected. I can no more grant you a meeting with the herd of Dark Forest than could you grant me a meeting with a human of my choosing. You know Centaur ways, and it is time you used your knowledge._

_ I have, however, sent word to that herd with my recommendation that they do allow you audience. I kept silent on the amusing bit of misdirection you included as a post script, as your human humor would be underappreciated in this case. Clean manes._

_Boxwood Clan,_

_Arion_

Aries sighed in frustration, but knew his friend was right. Well, not about his true identity being a joke, but about the Milky Way comment. While Crunch was the grandson of a major clan head, Arion was merely a particularly gifted Centaur from a clan with a hoof in the door at Atlantis University. It was short-sighted and ignorant of him to try and avoid Bane by going through the only other Centaur he knew well.

But Arion was also right in that Aries knew Centaur ways, at least enough to complete this task. Leaving a note for Charles – who would be arriving soon to prepare for his classes – and asking Kreacher to get him a glass of pumpkin juice from the kitchens, the Spellsmith headed for the Forbidden Forest.

He could feel the moment he reached the boundary between the Hogwarts wards and the specific magic of the Dark Forest. The whole magical 'smell' of the place changed. Settling himself down on his knees at the border, Aries pulled a small knife off his arm guard and made a small cut in the back of one hand, letting the blood flow freely. It only took a few minutes for a thestral to show up, drawn by the smell, and then more. With each new thestral that joined the group, they inched a little bit closer. Aries knew that the Centaurs, ever aware of the creatures within their domain, would not be long behind.

One brave thestral stopped just feet from Aries, stretching his long neck out and sniffing. Slowly, the brunet reached out and stroked the beast's leathery muzzle. A twig snapped, and the thestral's ear twitched.

"May we speak face to face?" he asked, on a hunch.

The leathery equine winged beasts melted silently back into the forest. A moment later, the brush parted and an unfortunately familiar centaur emerged.

"And what would a human have to say that I would want to hear?" Bane demanded.

Aries raised himself to his feet as smoothly as he could, ignoring the usual twinge in his hip. He was still two heads shorter than the centaur, but he knew that staying on his feet would improve his standing.

"I speak out of respect for you and yours, Bane," he said, hoping to throw the prickly man off balance. "My name is Aries Hesuchazo, friend of Arion of the Boxwood Clan."

"You speak of respect, of friendship with centaurs," Bane snorted derisively, "what does a human know of such things?"

"I know only what I have been taught," Aries acknowledged humbly. "I know that this forest belongs to you and your herd, and thus I have not entered it uninvited. I know that when the winds of fate blow, it is best to turn your back to them, and go where they lead."

Bane snorted again, nostrils flaring. He paced a little, agitated at a human who had not given him reason to be angry or insulted.

"Speak then, human of such wisdom," he commanded sarcastically. "Tell me what you know of the stars and the fates."

Aries gathered himself for a moment, and began.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

In the tiny Hogwarts kitchen, curled up beneath a stove, a large snake slept through the cold of the night. When the House Elves stoked the fire to make breakfast, the heat slowly roused her, and by the time lunch was delivered to the students in the Great Hall, Nagini was ready for the hunt.

As she unwound her long serpentine body, causing dozens of the little elves to shriek and scatter, she felt her master's gentle presence. Using her eyes, he guided her through cupboards until she found a hole into the space between walls. Her master knew even these passages well, and he led her surely upward and onward, toward the faintest smell of owls.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries reapplied his glamour before leaving the shadows of the Forbidden Forest. He spotted Hagrid working behind the stables, and took the long way around to avoid him. While he missed his old friendship with the half-giant, he was entirely not in the mood for any more awkward conversations than were strictly necessary.

The castle was abuzz with activity, and the Spellsmith wove through the crowds of students and Order Members without drawing a second glance. Apparently word had spread of the impending attack, classes had been cancelled, and reinforcements called.

Satisfied with the Order's progress on their end, Aries headed straight for Charles' office to gather all the Horcruxes. He very nearly made it, too.

"Aries, Aries!" Charles' voice stopped him at the last corner. The redhead came running down the hall, students leaping out of his way to avoid being trampled.

"Charles, what's the matter?" Aries could feel his own adrenaline level shoot up as he took in his friends' stressed face.

"Oh like that's a bloody intelligent question," Charles rolled his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. Glancing at the students staring at them, he jerked his head toward his office. "Come with me."

Aries had no problem with that. Once the door was locked behind them, he started gathering the Horcruxes from where he'd stashed them, while Charles flopped in his chair.

"Specifically now, what has you so riled up?" he asked, double- and triple- checking the list of items in his hands against the one in his head.

"Well, we've got just over twenty-four hours until the full moon, when Voldemort and his army of wizards and werewolves and Merlin only knows what else will attack. Minerva decided to start gathering Order members first, and then ask them to help evacuate the students. Well, about half our reinforcements had arrived when suddenly they just stopped. No one had come in a couple of hours, so Minerva tried to floo headquarters – to make a long story short, we've been cut off. Completely. Near as we can tell, every floo in Hogwarts is off the system; and we still have hundreds of innocent children in the castle."

Aries cursed.

"That's definitely bad news," he agreed. "Why were you so intent on finding me, though?"

"Must you be so thick?" Charles muttered; Aries paid him no mind, as the Auror often resorted to mindless insults when stressed. "You know every secret passage in this place, don't you? Surely there's one that will take the students to safety, and preferably also allow for incoming reinforcements."

The hope in his voice made it that much more difficult for Aries to shake his head no.

"Every secret tunnel I know I learned from the map Potter and his friends made, which means Pettigrew knows them, too. Voldemort will have them watched as closely as the road into Hogsmead."

Even as he said it though, he could feel Hogwarts' wards pulling at him, like a child tugging at his sleeve. Charles started to say something, but Aries held up a hand for silence, falling into his connection to the castle's magic. Once the bond had firmed up a bit, he caught a sliver of a glimpse of a memory from within Gryffindor Tower; it was wrapped in elf magic with a high affinity for Aries' own, else wards wouldn't have been able to let even that through.

_"-elves call it the Come and Go room-_"

Well. Wasn't _that_ interesting? Aries' brain buzzed with more questions, but he recognized from Charles' impatient glare that now would not be the time to quiz the castle.

"Do you remember the room we used for the Minimus Animagi spell?" he asked the redhead.

"Of course I do," Charles nodded. "There wasn't a secret passage hidden in there the whole time, was there?"

"Well, yes and no," Aries pushed away the intricate complexities of the spells on the Room, trying for a simple explanation. "Basically the room can be whatever the person outside needs it to be. The passage may already exist, though. I don't know if the Room can affect a place outside the castle like that to magic up a tunnel that didn't exist before. And I don't know where it comes out, so definitely be a little cautious. But all you have to do is go up to the corridor outside the room and pace back and forth thinking about exactly what you need until a door appears."

"What, you're not going to go do it?" the former Auror was startled that his friend would shy away from a potential adventure, but Aries shook his head.

"I'm afraid I have other things to do, lots of them, and I'd best be about them."

Charles took the hint and left, clapping the brunet on the shoulder on his way out and giving him a bracing sort of look. One that Aries took to mean 'good luck', and not 'don't do anything stupid', although the latter was more likely from the Slytherin-at-heart.

Alone in the office, Horcruxes in hand, the Spellsmith grabbed a bit of parchment and a quill.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Ron and Hermione were stationed in the Great Hall. McGonagall had asked all the prefects to gather there with the younger years and try to keep their minds off things by helping them with homework or playing games. Technically, the pair had been relieved of prefect duty pending a heroic departure from school (which now seemed distinctly unlikely), but they didn't exactly have anywhere better to be.

Morning post had come and gone, with nothing more expected, so when a single paper airplane soared through the doors, all eyes followed it to the redheaded young man and his bushy haired companion. Hermione caught it gently and peeked at it, before quickly stuffing it in a pocket and hurrying out of the hall, Ron on her heels.

"What is it?" he asked quietly, once they were away from the crowds. "Who's it from."

"Ha- Ar – oh, you know," she stammered, ending in a moan. "Here, let me just read it:

"Dear Ron and Hermione,

"I have a crucial task to take care of and could very much use a pair of able wands. If you're interested, please meet me in the astronomy tower as soon as you get this. I promise you won't have to cast any Dark spells.

"If not, you can just crumple this up and throw it away, it will appear to anyone else as a request for sweets from Hogsmead.

"It's signed just 'your friend'," she concluded, "but I'd know his handwriting anywhere. What do you think?"

"What do you mean what do I think?" Ron blinked. "Do you think we shouldn't go?"

Hermione bit her lip.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I mean, he says _we_ won't be casting any Dark spells, which suggest he will be…"

"Hermione," Ron sighed gruffly, scratching one ear. "Look, I don't know if this bloke is our friend or not. I don't know if I like him or not. But he is the one person I'd trust to always be against You-Know-Who, and right now that's all I need to know. Now come on!"

He took off toward the tower, without a backward glance, safe in the knowledge that Hermione would be on his heels as quickly as her shorter legs could carry her.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Nagini tasted the air as she emerged from the space between the walls. The floor beneath her scales was soft with droppings and pellets, and she could smell dead rodents and living owls, the one below and the other above. Her master guided her to a pole that would lead up to the birds' perches.

_Climb my pet_, he whispered sweetly in her mind, _climb and kill._

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: You know, it feels pretty good to end on a cliffhanger again (wink emoticon that ffnet can't render properly).**

**Thanks again for your support. You readers really lift me up.**

**PANTZ,**

**Emy**


	39. Quarter Time

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, my playground.

**Summary:** BLINK, you missed it

**A/N: **I'm actually working at staying a chapter ahead of what I post, which is part of why we haven't been going that much faster, but I'm doing better than last year at least ^_^

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Chapter 39: Quarter Time (So named because this whole chapter covers about 15 minutes of real time)

Severus flicked his hands, cleaning them with a wordless, wandless spell. The Wolfsbane potion was finished, and divided neatly into half-pint vials, corked and ready for distribution to the werewolves. He had managed to add a bit more of the soporific, which would hopefully make the beasts drowsy at least, and less effective weapons, though he had little hope of them actually falling asleep, not at such a small dosage.

After all, the Dark Lord only needed them coherent enough to tell friend from foe.

Rubbing his fingers over his eyes to ease the burning sensation from lack of sleep, the Potions Master moved out into the hallway for the first time in two days. Before he could allow himself to rest, he knew, he had to tell his master that the potions were ready. He did not pass any other members of the inner circle as he descended the stairs, which he thought odd, until he found Bellatrix guarding the room the Dark Lord had claimed for his own.

"Snape," she sneered at him, pointing her nose at the ceiling. "What are you doing away from your cauldrons?"

"I wish to report to our Lord on my task," he responded calmly, knowing it would irk her further. "Do please let me pass."

"No one is to disturb Him at this time," Bella recited, her eyes glinting with pleasure at denying him. "He is performing extremely difficult magic, and has trusted _me_ with the task of ensuring no one enters this room until he is finished."

Severus shrugged, it truly was no matter to him.

"Very well, then I too shall retire and perform the magic of sleep until our Lord emerges," he drawled. "If you would be so kind as to tell him the Wolfsbane potion is finished."

She seemed thrown by that, as most Slytherins would be, knowing how easy it was to take credit for another's work. But then, Severus was not just any second-rate Death Eater, he was a Master of Potions, and if Bella tried to take credit for twelve cauldrons of Wolfsbane, even Voldemort – whose sanity was questionable at best – would laugh in her face.

Taking advantage of her momentary unbalance, he spun on one heel and swept back up the stairs, fully intending on the nap he had hinted he might take, until reason caught up with his tired brain. The Dark Lord was holed away performing some magic that left him unaware of his surroundings enough to require a guard, Bella was stuck as door sentry, and all the other members of the Inner Circle were off on their own tasks. Thus, there would be no one to see if he slipped out, even just long enough to get a message to Potter.

Dumbledore's last message.

Severus only thought it a pity the fool would probably be gone before he could tell him a few of the _other_ things he wanted to say.

Moving quickly, the spy grabbed one of the smaller, two-ounce vials from the now-empty box that had held Wolfsbane ingredients. A quick spell cleaned the bottle, and seconds later it was filled with a milky-white strand of memory. Severus tucked the precious cargo in an inner pocket, reinforced with cushioning charms, and turned his attention to the problem of escaping toward Hogwarts without Bellatrix knowing.

The first step was a disillusionment charm on himself, as powerful as he could make it. He was no Dumbledore, able to make himself invisible, but if he moved slowly he was unlikely to be noticed. Second, a localized silencing spell around his feet, to cover not just footsteps, but the creaky floorboards of this dilapidated excuse for a house.

After a steadying breath – Severus was, after all, no Gryffindor, and somewhat of a stranger to taking risky actions – he slipped silently back down the stairs. Bellatrix did not notice him as he slowly inched his way toward the trap door, just a few feet from her and only half-hidden by the parlor wall. He cast a weak summoning charm on a chair upstairs, and the moment Bellatrix turned toward the suspicious thump, he popped open the trap door and jumped down, silencing the wood just an instant before it slammed shut.

One more breath, to make sure Bella wasn't on her way to investigate the door, and he was off down the secret tunnel, toward Hogwarts.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Despite their enthusiasm, Ron and Hermione's pace had dragged to a slow walk by the time they reached the last flight of stairs up to Astronomy Tower. They came to a full stop before the closed door and, biting her lip, Hermione turned the knob and pushed it open; it wasn't locked.

Aries crouched, his back to them, in front of a large stone brazier. The near-Ravenclaw wondered where it had come from, since it had certainly never been in the tower before. Of course, she was even more curious what the Spellsmith was doing with it.

"Please shut the door behind you," the brunet commanded quietly, not turning around. "Wards should activate automatically, but they won't keep you in if you decide to leave."

"You said you needed our help? This is for the upcoming battle, right?" Ron asked, taking a stance that showed he had no intention of leaving.

"Yes, I do, and yes, it is," Aries agreed, finally standing to face them. "And I did promise that neither of you would be doing any Dark Magic. However, as Hermione has no doubt sussed, _I_ will."

Hermione pursed her lips in frustration; every rule in the Hogwarts rulebook, and every law in the Ministry law books, said that Dark Magic was bad. That's why they had a _Defense Against _the Dark Arts class!

"Hermione," Aries almost whispered, his wand held casually against his shoulder as he crossed his arms, his eyes low. "You read my book. Do you remember chapter 7?"

"Dark Magic and Why the Unforgivables Aren't," she acknowledged. "I admit I just figured you were wrong about that one. I mean, if the Unforgivables and all those other curses aren't Dark Arts, why do we learn about them in Defense?"

Aries looked up at the sky, his own lips pinched in a way that was very reminiscent of the Harry who had been with them just days ago. He would make that face when he knew something, but knew it with his gut instead of his brain.

"Are Goblins Creatures or Beings?" he asked suddenly.

"Beings, of course," she responded quickly, almost offended at the question.

"But in the Ministry, the International and Interspecial Banking Regulations office is in the Department for International Magical Cooperation; the Goblin Liaison office is in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures; and the laws against goblins owning or using a wand are part of the Compact on the Regulation of Beings of Near-Human Intelligence, circa 1520, I do believe. So, according to the ministry, are Goblins Creatures or Beings?"

"I suppose they're both, whatever the Ministry decides best suits their needs at the time," the brilliant Gryffindor was starting to see where this was going. "So you're saying that the Ministry classifies spells as Dark Magic, when they actually aren't? Is the spell you're going to do not _actually_ Dark then?"

Aries smiled, but it lacked feeling, as he said, "Two steps ahead and a step behind, I'm afraid."

Ron was barely holding on to the conversation, and stuffed his hands in his pockets in disgruntlement at what he was pretty sure was an insult to Hermione. She didn't seem offended, though, merely a little confused, like she had gotten 98% on a test instead of 100%.

"You see, Creature and Being are useful categories, to a point," Aries explained. "When used properly, they denote sentience, or a lack thereof. However, because the Ministry has used these categories politically rather than scientifically, they are no longer merely useful descriptions, and can in fact be grievous insults. Dark Magic is the same way – originally it was merely a categorization for magic that obtained a tint greater than 100. The only way a spell can get this dark a tint is by the addition of a source of power beyond the magic of the wizard. Do you remember the four sources I listed in the book?"

"Death, blood, pain and," Hermione blushed crimson, "sex."

"Exactly," Aries nodded. "Now, I'm sure you can imagine that the vast majority of spells that require these elements are, and _should_ be, as illegal as the Killing Curse. However, the Ministry started long ago classifying all malicious spellwork as Dark Magic, and then outlawed the whole branch together. Some Dark spells that are not, in fact, malicious got lumped in with the rest. Did you know, Hermione, that my mother's sacrifice, which granted me protection against Voldemort, was Dark Magic, because it was powered by her self-sacrifice?"

Hermione's forehead scrunched up a little bit as she thought on that.

"So the Killing Curse isn't Dark Magic, scientifically speaking, because it uses the power of the witch or wizard to kill someone, but your mother's sacrifice was Dark Magic, because it used the power of a death to cast magic," she summarized. Aries nodded, smiling more genuinely now.

"Exactly," he declared. "And that's one thing about Dark Magic – the greatest power always, _always_ comes from self-sacrifice, rather than the sacrifice of another. In any case," he shook himself and walked around the brazier, "that whole explanation was just to assure you that, while I _will_ be doing Dark Magic here, I will not be doing anything _bad_, because there is a difference. Have you ever heard of Fiendfyre?"

Hermione and Ron both nodded, to the surprise of all three. The redhead turned a bit pink around the ears as Hermione turned to stare at him.

"Well come on, I do know _some_ stuff," he said. "Fiendfyre's the most powerful fire spell, but it's really dangerous, turns into shapes of wicked great beasts, and chases down any humans it sees."

"And it can destroy Horcruxes," Aries added. "But, like you said, it's really dangerous, and would rather destroy us than these," he motioned with his wand and for the first time Hermione noticed the locket, cup, and diadem resting in the middle of the Brazier. "So, I am going to cast the Fiendfyre spell, using my own blood, and do my best to control it, but I need the two of you to make sure it's contained to the brazier. The last thing we need to do is burn down Hogwarts right before a battle, right?"

Again, Hermione and Ron nodded, and it felt like the world shifted back into place. The three of them were doing what they had always been meant to do.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

At a squawk and thump below her, Hedwig woke up. She opened one eye to peer down as panic erupted in the owlery. Feathers flew everywhere, and all the birds around her were raising an almighty racket as, one-by-one, a large dark form sent them to their deaths. The snowy opened her other eye, not seeing the usual opening above, meaning the only escape was the student-level window, just past the attacker. Although it was clearly useless to any thinking bird, many foolish owls had already tried to get past the creature, and their bodies littered the floor.

Angry at the deaths of her roost-mates, Hedwig hopped down to a lower rafter, nearly on eye-level with the monster, which she could now see was a very large snake. She ruffled all her feathers, puffed out her wings to make herself look as large as possible, and screeched right in its face.

The snake reared back, hissed, and struck out, but Hedwig was quicker, leaping to another rafter and nearly getting a retaliatory peck. A barn owl tried to take advantage of the beast's distraction, but was felled by a quick strike. An eagle-owl took Hedwig's tactics and charged while the snake was turned away, but it reared back, and the two faced off. The snake's fangs dripped with poison, and the eagle-owl's eyes narrowed with fear and hatred.

They circled for a moment, turning the snake so it could not see Hedwig, and at that moment she launched herself into the air, catching the snake in her talons right behind the head just as it tried to strike at the other bird. Flying with all her might, she dragged the fiend with her out through the window.

Wing and feather, but it was heavy!

Faced with the open sky and the struggling snake, she could not think where to go. There had once been a guiding magic that had always told her where to go, lead her infallibly back to her master at all times, but she had felt that guiding string stretch to the breaking point two days ago. Her master, the magic told her, had gone where she could not follow.

Even as these thoughts flashed through her mind, though, the binding magic surged. Weaker still than before the stretch, but strong enough. _Go_, it told her,_ take the snake to your master_.

Barely able to keep her claws around the writhing creature, she followed the invisible string. Thankfully, she didn't have far to go; already her wings ached from the burden. But she found him mere flaps away, at another tower of the castle, tending a great fire that writhed nearly out of his control. She cried out, and his eyes found her immediately.

"Hedwig!" he shouted, his voice strange but familiar. "Drop the snake in the fire!"

The snowy tried, she did, but the snake had coiled around her legs, and though she swooped so low over the flames that she could feel her feathers singeing, the reptile did not let go. She screeched in despair, and the magic bond stretched thin again. No! She would not let her master go where she could not follow, she would always follow him, always!

Eyes fierce and determined, Hedwig pulled back. Then, before she could hesitate and fear that end of all flight, she dived straight into the fire, snake still clenched in her talons.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Voldemort's cry of fury could be heard throughout the Shrieking Shack, and possibly into Hogsmead village, where the residents would merely pass it off as a particularly active ghost. The Dark Lord snarled and cursed as he pulled himself back to his own mind and body.

Awareness rushed back of a night he had forgotten, a memory removal charm spread too thin over too large an area, broken by a single reminder. When he saw Aries Hesuchazo through Nagini's eyes, saw him standing in Hogwarts with two of Potter's chums, he remembered it all. Remembered the betrayal, the humiliation, and the fury.

Oh yes, the fury.

And it made him all the angrier that Potter/Hesuchazo had been burning _his Horcruxes_. The ring had not been there, he would send Lucius to check on the ring. Then again, Lucius had proved less than reliable with his diary. Perhaps he would send Bellatrix, his most faithful witch, or Sever-

_Severusssss_

The name hissed in his mind as he remembered his countless doubts about the man's loyalty, all soothed away by Aries. Aries who was Harry Potter. Aries who had never been loyal. Aries who would only have one reason to keep Severus Snape in Voldemort's good graces.

Just feet from the roots of the Whomping Willow, Severus felt his Mark burn.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"HEDWIG!" Aries' cry rang out and he nearly lost control of the spell. Hermione frantically shouted his name, and he brought his attention back to the fire itself. The Horcruxes were not completely destroyed, and he felt his heart clench and his throat burn as he held the spell that consumed his familiar.

Except, the spell was changing. The Horcruxes were being consumed faster and faster, and no longer were manticores or dragons reaching up from the flames. Instead, the fiendfyre seemed to be concentrating itself, burning lower and lower, but getting hotter and hotter, until the air itself was almost too hot to breathe.

Suddenly, the fire flared up in a shape too bright to see, and made a sound almost like a song, and almost like Hedwig's last cry, and then it vanished. All that was left in the brazier were the ashes and melted remnants of the Horcruxes and Hedwig.

Physically, magically, and emotionally exhausted, Aries sunk down to the floor, leaning with his back against the stone stand holding up the brazier. He did not want to move, but he needed to make sure.

"Hermione, Ron, could you check and make sure we got them all?" he asked in a whisper.

"Yeah, sure mate," Ron answered somberly, and the Spellsmith heard the sound of the young man shifting through the debris.

Hermione sat next to him and gently touched his arm. He flinched back from the contact, but she held on, and Aries made himself relax.

"I'm sorry," she whispered emotionally, tears making her eyes seem overly bright.

Aries looked blankly at her, unable to say anything in response. Unable to process what had just occurred enough to think of a response. They sat in silence for a moment, before Ron's voice brought them back.

"Hey mate, uh, something's moving."

The Spellsmith was on his feet in a moment, his heart pounding at the thought of some living part of Voldemort's soul still active and dangerous. He followed the redhead's line of sight to a small mound of particularly dark ash. Holding his breath and hearing Ron do the same, he waited a moment. Indeed, after a heartbeat or two, the mound of ash twitched as if something were underneath, struggling to get out.

"Ron, brush of the dust, Hermione, stand with me ready with a containment spell," he commanded, eyes fixed on the anomaly. His friends did as ordered, and on an unspoken count of three, Ron used a house-keeping spell to swipe away large amounts of ash.

Aries' jaw dropped as the head of a small, ugly, baby phoenix poked out.

Gently, once again not daring to breathe, he reached out and gathered the chick into his hands. Already its pink skin was starting to sprout a dusting of downy feathers; no doubt in a few days it would look like Fawkes.

"Hedwig?" he asked softly. The chick turned toward his voice and chirped.

"Holy cricket," Hermione breathed, looking down at the fragile young creature. "Nothing I've ever read…no one has ever seen…"

"I know; who knew, right?" Ron chuckled in disbelief.

They all laughed, mostly from the sudden absence of grief, but the moment of companionship was not to last.

"HARRY POTTER." The magically magnified voice was meant to be loud enough to be heard inside the castle; here on the tower it was almost deafening. Hedwig cooed in distress, and Aries quickly cast cushioning and warming charms on an inside pocket of his robe, tucking her safely away. The three of them turned to face the sound, coming from the edge of the grounds closest to Hogsmead. "YOU ARE GUILTY OF CRIMES AGAINST THE GOOD OF THE WIZARDING WORLD. ALL WITHIN HOGWARTS ARE GUILTY OF AIDING AND HARBORING A TRAITOR TO HIS OWN KIND. YOU HAVE TWENTY-FOUR HOURS TO DELIVER YOURSELF TO ME, OR HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY WILL BE UNDER ATTACK. AND DO NOT IMAGINE YOU CAN ESCAPE; YOU CANNOT APPARATE, YOU CANNOT PORTKEY, AND YOU CANNOT FLOO. WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED ON ALL SIDES. COME QUIETLY, AND SOME OF YOUR FRIENDS MAY SURVIVE."

Aries cursed loudly, ignoring Hermione's gasp of surprise. Voldemort must know about the Horcruxes being destroyed. Why else would he give an ultimatum? The news about the portkey block was surprising, though, and suggested that Voldemort was able to manipulate Hogwarts' wards. The thought sent a chill down his spine, as there was much damage the Dark Lord could do through Hogwarts' magic. Perhaps his connection could be dispelled-

Even as the thought crossed his mind, Aries felt his scar flare. The pain shook him, but he remained standing. Tentatively, he lowered his Occlumency just enough to see what the snake-faced megalomaniac was trying to show him.

_And Potter, just to make sure you indeed come to me…_ Voldemort hissed in his thoughts, and the view from the tower was suddenly overlaid with a view of a dark basement room where a dark figure lay on the floor, covered almost completely in black robes. A spell shot out and the figure jerked, revealing his face.

"No, Severus!"

_Twenty-four hours, Potter…_

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

**A/N: No, I will not be covering that entire 24 hour period in fifteen minute increments, that would be ridiculous. There's actually very little to be left from here on out, because (as I'm sure many of you have guessed) I am borrowing very heavily from the final battle chapters of DH.**

**In any case, I'm pretty pleased with how this chapter came out. I got the didactic stuff done – hopefully Aries' explanation on Dark magic cleared up a rambling internal monologue from his apprentice days – and then the rest flowed pretty well.**

**Let me know what you think!**

**PANTZ,**

**Emy**


	40. Failing Heart

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, my playground.

**Summary:** Take a Mӧbius strip, now imagine it's made of time.

**A/N:** Just a little bit left now. This isn't the last chapter, but it's really close. Thanks for all your reviews!

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-**

Chapter 40: Faltering Heart

Aries froze, heart pounding. His face turned pale even through the glamour. Inside his head, the events of the last few seconds replayed themselves over and over, turning into a chaotic maelstrom. Dimly, he heard Hermione and Ron calling him, but he could not hear them through the torrent.

Severus was found out.

The Horcrux objects were destroyed.

Severus was being held captive.

Nagini was destroyed.

Severus was being held hostage.

Only one Horcrux remained.

In that instant, a cold chill gripped Aries' heart and he quailed at the imminence of the destiny to which he thought he had reconciled himself. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to walk, willingly, into Voldemort's hands, to face the green light from the end of that familiar wand. Desperately he searched his racing mind for another option, some other way to rescue Severus and rid himself of his soul's burden.

Hogwarts' wards brushed against his agitated magic, and his escape came to him in a flash.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

"Aries, stop it," Charles insisted, standing in his way.

"But it's the perfect time," Aries explained, feeling frantic as each second went by. "Let me through so I can access the ward apex. It's not like we don't have a time limit here."

He tried to push past again, but Charles shoved him back, almost angrily.

"Yes, we have a time limit, but you're no use to anyone without sleep," he growled. "You've never tried this before, this 'merging' with wards, and we need you- _I_ need you to be in prime shape, so I know you're not going to completely lose all sense of yourself!"

Aries scowled at the man before him, standing every inch the Auror-in-charge. Charles didn't understand – and Aries didn't want to explain – that the hard part was done. If he did lose himself in the wards, that might just be the best outcome, so long as he could get the wards to cast out the piece of Voldemort living within him. Then _anyone_ could kill the Dark Lord.

But Charles _did_ know about Severus being held hostage against Aries' own life, so how could he possibly expect the Spellsmith to wait?

Moving quickly, Aries wordlessly cast the spell to let him slip into the shadows, but Charles was ready for him, firing off a flash of light that temporarily banished all the shadows from the corridor. Before the Spellsmith could think of another attempt, a fragile glass vial broke against his shoulder, spewing fumes into his face. He looked up to see Charles, one hand holding his robe up to cover his nose and mouth.

"You see, this is what I mean," the redhead pointed out, "I could never have got the jump on you like that if you'd been sleeping properly."

A moment later, Aries' vision swam, and the world turned sideways. He was stopped by a strong arm just a foot above the stone floor, and then everything went black.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Aries walked through the castle, the emptiness and silence more oppressive than a bustling crowd of students had ever been. Outside, he could make out a turbulent, cloudy sky, and the castle matched the dim light, without any sign of sconces or torches. The Spellsmith wandered aimlessly, gradually noticing that he didn't recognize the corridors. Heart beating in his ears, he walked faster and faster, turning corners at random. Nowhere could he find the familiar signs of the Great Hall, any of his classrooms, or the Gryffindor tower. No portraits decorated the walls to show him the way, and no castle magic touched his mind, leaving him completely to his own devices.

Left, right, left, down a flight of stairs, left, right –

He skidded to a stop in front of the Potions Classroom. Severus stood in the doorway, staring him down with a look of disdain.

"Mr. Potter, you are late."

"Late? Sev, what?" he stammered.

"Thirteen points from Gryffindor for over familiarity with your professor, Potter," Snape sneered, looking at Harry like he was gum on the bottom of his shoe. "And it'll be twelve more if you do not make haste to the funeral."

The scene shifted, and he and Sev were standing side by side outside, where a funeral was in process. The Weasley twins marched by, singing the tune of a funeral dirge.

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, hoggy warty Hogwarts, teach us something please…"

"Who's funeral is this?" Aries asked, voice hushed to match the somber event. "Mine or yours?"

Sev shrugged brusquely, and Aries realized he was offended by the question, but couldn't think why. Someone was crying, and the brunet turned away to give them privacy. He found himself facing the gates of Hogwarts, where two winged warthogs guarded the entrance, framed by a Latin phrase:

_Draco dormiens nunquatum titillandus_.

"Never tickle a sleeping dragon," Sev commanded in a stern voice.

"I won't," Aries assured him.

"Oh I very much doubt that," the Slytherin sneered.

Again, the Spellsmith heard someone cry, very near his ear. He turned-

And promptly fell off Charles' couch, upsetting Hedwig, who flapped about on juvenile wings, squawking chastisingly at him.

After several seconds of mentally flailing about until he figured out where he was, and why, the Spellsmith picked up his little Phoenix, petting her gently.

"Sorry Hedwig," he said gently. She cooed at him, reaching up with her long neck and nipping him on the ear affectionately. "Yes, it's good to see you too. We've both changed a lot, haven't we? What time is it? _Tempus_."

The numbers materialized in front of him, and his gut lurched as he realized it was fully 1 in the afternoon. He had until just before sundown to get rid of Voldemort's last Horcrux, get rid of Voldemort, and save Sev.

"I could curse Charles," he growled, feeling genuine anger drawing on the taint of Dark Magic in his blood. The feeling was familiar by now, and he tried to swallow it back. Hedwig cooed and whistled – not quite true Phoenix song yet – and the darkness drew back. "Thanks, girl."

Shaking his head to clear away thoughts of punishment or retribution, he gently set Hedwig on Charles' desk.

"You stay here, girl, and be safe. I'll be back soon," _I hope._

Aries didn't even bother trying to make it through the hallways unseen. He slipped into the first secret passage he found, then phased into the shadow world, passing through the darkness much faster than the physical world. In a matter of seconds, he popped back into solidity in front of the entrance to the Headmistress' office. The wards here wouldn't let him pass as a shadow, and he knew the ward apex sat just at the top of the stairs. Hogwarts was strangely quiet, resisting his requests for her to open up on her own, and Aries finally resorted to knocking politely on the gargoyle.

The statue leapt aside moments later, and Aries rode the spiral stairs, unsurprised to see a small gathering of top figures crowded around the Headmistress' desk. McGonagall was there, of course, along with Mr. Weasley, Auror Shacklebolt, the owner of the Hog's Head, and – and this was surprising – Master Tobin.

"Aries, of course, come in, please," the Headmistress welcomed him. "We were just discussing our preparations for the battle this evening. I would care to hear if you have any input."

"Not at this time," he replied, trying not to show outwardly his impatience at being delayed in his task. "To be frank, I know nothing of large-scale battle tactics or anything of the sort. I assure you, I am working behind the scenes to do all I can."

"And what is so occupying my former apprentice?" Tobin clipped, glancing at him with a look that was half suspicious, and half bored.

"Master Tobin, I'm pretty sure they all know already," Aries quirked an eyebrow at his master.

"Immaterial," Tobin waved a dismissive hand. "I wish to know what magic has been keeping you busy enough you haven't greeted your Guildmaster."

Aries bit back a frustrated sigh; if only the ward apex hadn't required passing through the Headmistress' Office, he could have been there by now.

"My apologies sir," he managed to grind out. "Thank you so much for coming, I'm sure Headmistress McGonagall has extended Hogwarts' gratitude for your assistance at this trying time."

"Ah, but my presence was not requested by the illustrious Headmistress McGonagall, but by a member of my guild," Tobin shot back immediately, not about to be dismissed so easily. "If I wish to see what magic you are crafting, no matter what trying times, that is my prerogative."

"Fine, you stubborn old goat," the brunet groaned. "I'm going to access Hogwarts' Ward Apex and try to expel Voldemort's magic, which has turned some of the wards to his own use."

"Hmm," Tobin ran one finger down his grey goatee. "That would require intimate knowledge of and contact with the wards. Are you sure-"

"Yes, I'm sure."

The Guildmaster raised an eyebrow at his brusque tone, and motioned with one hand that he would hold any further questions or doubts. Aries turned to the Headmistress.

"May I?" he asked, fully intending to fly up to the apex from the outside if she denied him.

"Certainly, through there," she pointed at a door to the side of one of the windows, which Aries knew led up and out to the smallest, highest room in the office. "And if you don't mind just slipping out on your own, we do have much to discuss here, gentlemen."

Aries nodded, apologizing for himself and his master, then led the way into the Ward Room where the model of Hogwarts sat. He slipped into Magic Sight, watching as the dark corners of the room lit up. The miniature Hogwarts glowed brighter than a television, thousands of strands of wards shining together. Tobin found a quiet corner, out of the way, and positioned himself to observe.

The junior Master Spellsmith braced himself against the table and closed his eyes, wanting to feel Hogwarts' wards rather than see them. He reached out and felt the magic embrace him. Taking a deep breath, the brunet opened his own magic, allowing Hogwarts access to all of him. Strand by strand the wards connected, and Aries knew the castle was trying to be gentle, but he still felt like he was inflating to twice his normal size. This wasn't meant to be done so suddenly – a more gradual process like that which had occurred the summer after graduation could be so inconspicuous as to go unnoticed – but needs must.

It seemed to be working, and Aries clenched his teeth against the discomfort so that he could bind his own magic with Hogwarts. He had most of the surface wards already, and started to move inward, toward the more integral parts of the castle.

Suddenly, with an audible groan, the wards stopped flowing into him. The sharp sting of Gryffindor's Dark Magic protection wards spun through his entire body, and Aries heard himself cry out, and then the wards were leaving, running, fleeing from him. The brunet slumped to the floor, fighting to keep conscious. His vision swam, darkening around the edges, and it took several deep breaths before he was able to focus on the face directly above his own.

"Well, that was pretty stupid," Tobin commented dryly. "What, exactly, were you hoping to accomplish? Assuming this wasn't it."

"Voldemort has a close connection to the wards here," Aries mumbled, feeling a headache start to pound behind his ears. "He's managed to manipulate them before, and I was worried he would use them to his own ends during the battle. I also have a close connection to Hogwarts, and was going to merge with the wards to expel Voldemort's influence."

"So you were perfectly willing to throw away any future prospects by binding yourself to a school?" Tobin scoffed. "Well, you never were very bright. In any case, what went wrong?"

"Gryffindor's wards," Aries grunted. His vision was starting to clear and the headache was receding. An idea flashed in his mind and he looked up at his old teacher. "I need you to Pull all the Dark Magic residue from me," he exclaimed.

"What?" Tobin reared back as if slapped, and the brunet managed to lever himself back to his feet using the edge of the table.

"Gryffindor has wards preventing entrance to the tower by anyone with a residue of Dark Magic," he explained quickly. "I need you to pull all the Dark Magic residue out of me, as quickly as possible. Then I should be able to merge completely."

Tobin's face darkened and he positively glowered at his former student.

"Stupid, that I knew, but I never knew you were suicidal," he growled. "And if I ever hear you have tried something like that on someone else, I'll have you stripped of your mastery."

He turned on one sharp heel and headed for the door, Aries leapt out to stop him, only to be pushed back by a barrier spell.

"Master Tobin, I _need_-"

"I. Will. Not. If you want to die that badly, find some other way to do it."

Before Aries could say another word, his former master was out the door, footsteps clicking on the stairs back down to the Headmistress' office.

The junior Spellsmith stood, looking helplessly at the ward model. Hogwarts would not allow him full access; but that also meant she wouldn't allow Voldemort full access, as the Dark Lord was even more steeped in Dark Magic than Aries was. But that still left Voldemort's last Horcrux alive in his own body, and Voldemort himself immortal until that last piece was destroyed. If the castle couldn't expel the Horcrux without killing him, then perhaps he had no choice…

The ward threads before his eyes flashed and pulsed with urgent alarm, and exclamations came from below. Aries quickly placed a magnifying charm on his eyes, looking at the source of the disturbance. A small crowd of people were emerging from the Forbidden Forest, looking closely the Spellsmith could just barely identify several Death Eaters, wands pointed at a group of immobilized students, Aries cursed as he recognized Dennis Creevey and two other Gryffindors, young enough they should have been evacuated already.

Again, the voice of Voldemort shook through the castle.

"THESE SILLY CHILDREN TRIED TO SNEAK BACK IN, TO COME TO THE RESCUE OF THEIR OLDER FRIENDS. SUCH FOOLISHNESS IS NOT TO BE ALLOWED. DID I NOT CLEARLY STATE THAT NONE WOULD BE ALLOWED TO ENTER? DID I NOT GIVE YOU PLENTY OF TIME TO SAVE YOURSELVES BY DELIVERING THE CRIMINAL HARRY POTTER TO ME? NOW THESE CHILDREN MUST SUFFER FOR THEIR DISOBEDIENCE, AND FOR THEIR DISREGARD FOR THE RULES, I NOW GIVE YOU ONLY THIRTY MINUTES. BRING HARRY POTTER TO ME, OR EVERYONE IN THE CASTLE WILL SUFFER THE SAME FATE AS THESE THREE."

Despite all he had seen, and all he had done, Aries' heart clenched and his stomach lurched as he watched one of the Death Eaters raise his wand to kill one of the students. All at once, a rain of arrows started to fall around the dark wizards, warning shots from the centaurs, while at the same time the castle doors burst open and several Order members poured out, Remus Lupin at the head, followed closely by Tonks, Charlie Weasley, and others he didn't recognize.

One Death Eater started casting into the forest, while two more faced the oncoming crowd. The last regained focus on his task and, despite the long-range curses being hurled by the Order wizards and witches, cast the killing curse. Under magnification, the bright green flash seemed to blind Aries for a moment. He pulled back from the model, shaking his head, rubbing his eyes and cursing. By the time he looked back, it was over.

The four Death Eaters lay dead. Along with Colin Creevey, Remus, and Bane.

Chest tight with grief at the death of two that could have been his friends, the brunet's eyes were drawn inexorably back to the centaur's body, and he felt a surge of shame as he recalled their short conversation in the forest.

_ "First," he said humbly, eyes on the mottled pattern of the leaves against the sky, "I doubt there is anything I know of the stars that you do not, as everything I know I learned from centaurs, whose wisdom far exceeds my own. Second, Aries Hesuchazo is my second name, I have a first that is better known to you and yours – Harry Potter."_

_ Bane reared back in surprise, front hooves nearly lifting from the loamy forest soil._

_ "Harry Potter is still a child, still protected by those great stone walls," he claimed, though he did not sound as certain as he perhaps hoped he would._

_ Aries shook off the glamour._

_ "He was, until last night, when he wandered beyond the wards and was sent back in time twenty years," he explained. "I have lived these last two decades under a new name, with a new face, and walked a very different path."_

_ Not meeting Bane's eyes, he pulled up the sleeve on his robe to bare his left arm and the mark burned into his flesh. The centaur, surprised, let out a large gust of air from his nose in a centaur gasp._

_ "A long time ago," Aries continued when Bane made no comment, "longer for me than for you, so I hope you remember – you told another centaur not to set himself against the heavens, and berated him for helping me. It took me many years to understand, and longer to accept, but I want you to know, Bane, that I will go where the stars lead me. I know my fate, and I feel the time is soon. At the coming full moon, Voldemort and his forces will attack Hogwarts. There will likely be Death Eaters trespassing in your forest. My fate is already written, but the fate of your tribe and your land is not. I ask nothing of you, nor give you any advice, I simply wished to tell you what I know of what will come, in exchange for the knowledge you have given me. Thank you for your time."_

_ Bane remained speechless, so Aries reapplied his glamour, dipped his head in a small bow, and walked away._

The centaur had acted, had done just what Aries had hoped, and had helped save the lives of two Hogwarts students. And here he was trying to find a way out of the fate he had told Bane he had accepted.

The stars had decreed it, the fates of thousands of wizards and millions of Muggles depended on it.

Voldemort was waiting.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Voldemort was not a patient man. Severus watched his (former?) master's face darken further with each passing minute without Potter. The spy himself felt a quiet agony grow inside. He could imagine Hogwarts at this time, and pictures Potter, back in his birth face, gathering an army of all those enchanted by his name, ready to do battle with the Dark Lord, ignorant of Dumbledore's last, darkest secret.

Not for the first time, the Slytherin cursed his foolishness in returning to Voldemort when his mark burned. He had been within sprinting distance of the castle, and could have made it to safety before any Death Eaters caught up. At the time, though, he had had no way of knowing that this summons would be different from any other.

He had soon learned, at the harsh end of the Dark Lord's curses, that his time had come, and know he was only alive to be used as bait. But it wouldn't work – Harry Potter cared more for his own skin than for one doomed spy. It was understandable, from a tactical point of view – given only the knowledge of the prophecy, Severus probably would have advised him to stay away from the obvious trap.

"The time is up, my Lord," Bellatrix prodded, her glee restrained only by her fear of Voldemort's short fuse.

The Dark Lord stood, moving until he towered over his prone captive. Severus barely had the strength to move his limbs, weakened by hours of torture, and could do nothing but watch his former master's approach.

"Well, perhaps he has learned, in his time away from that old fool Dumbledore, what a weakness it is to care more for others than for himself," Voldemort mused, a tight hiss of disappointment underpinning his overtly calm words. With a wave of his wand, Severus' pain-riddled body was tossed carelessly into the side room where he had been kept for the last day. The Dark Lord raised his wand again, malice lighting his eyes like embers of a dying fire, and incanted, "_Serpensortia_."

A long, brightly-colored snake burst from the yew, making all haste for its victim. In a surge of panic at the thought of his own death, Severus transformed into his minimus form, but even as an Asp he was too weak to avoid the deadly fangs. After bare seconds of struggling, he felt the bite sink into his flesh, and imagined he could feel the poison entering his veins. Flopping to one side, he lost hold of the animal transformation, and felt the snake bite him once more. Severus bit back a groan at the pain, hoping to hold on to what little dignity he had left.

"Farewell, my back-biting snake," Voldemort hissed, and the door slammed shut, leaving the former spy alone in his agony.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

**A/N:** **please don't kill me for the cliffhanger. If you kill me, I can't tell you what happens. Please give me a review, let me know what you're thinking.**

**PANTZ,**

**Emerson**


	41. Life and Death

**Disclaimer: **Jo's world, my playground.

**Summary:** Some tests are passed, others are aced, others must be retaken.

**A/N:** I was really happy with the reviews for last chapter (although I did get a couple critical reviews – for reference, if you are going to criticize, please don't do it anonymously, because I do appreciate sincere critiques). Some of you obviously know me a little too well, so if you read on and find you got it on the nose, you get an internet cookie (the tasty kind, not the monitor you like a creepy stalker kind). Have fun!

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Chapter 41: Life and Death

Aries fairly flew as he hurried from the tower. The Headmistress' office was empty, likely those at the meeting had all hurried to help in the short, deadly skirmish, but the Spellsmith paid their absence almost no mind at all. He slipped into the shadows as soon as the wards allowed, heading straight for Charles' office. Thankfully the former Auror wasn't there, leaving Aries free to leave him a message he wouldn't like.

_Charles_, he wrote on the first blank parchment he found,

_I am the last Horcrux. If you are reading this, then I am dead, and Voldemort is fully mortal. Please make sure he is taken care of. I am sorry to leave what was to be my last task in your hands, but I have done all I could._

_ Thank you. For everything._

The quill hovered over the last line. It felt so inadequate – he would never have made it through the last twenty years – or even the last two days – without Charles there, reminding him of who he was. Unable to come up with anything better, he sealed the letter in an envelope, then burned it. Moving his wand over the ash, Aries enchanted the letter to reconstitute itself wherever Charles happened to be as soon as his own life ended. He wrote another letter to Ron and Hermione, saying the same things, along with an apology for not being there with them like they had all thought he would.

Finally, he removed his familiar glamour, and put on the face of a 17-year-old Harry Potter.

"Goodbye Hedwig," he whispered, not wanting to actually go to his familiar to say the words. "Sorry to leave you like this, but Charles will take good care of you, I bet."

Heart pounding, but head clear, the time-traveler who had come full circle slipped back into the shadows. Once he was out on the grounds, the sun was too bright for shadow travel, so he turned into Cloak for the short run to the Whomping Willow, but changed back and shadow-walked through the tunnel and into the shrieking shack.

"Farewell, my back-biting snake," he heard Voldemort say. A door shut firmly.

Harry's throat seized up. He was too late! Navigating through the confusing negative-world of shadows, he found the door and slipped beneath and through it, stepping out into the real world so quickly he fell onto his knees.

"Sev," he gasped, banishing the offending snake with barely a thought. "Oh, Sev, no!"

"..arr..Pott-," Severus choked out. One weak hand groped in his robes, pulling out a vial of milky memory. "Dumb-do…horcrusss."

"You knew?" Harry reared back, shocked, then he shook that off, focusing on the man in front of him. "Nevermind, I already know, and I'm here to do what needs to be done, but first I need to patch you up."

Severus' eyes widened, then started to dim. His breathing grew even more shallow, and though his lips moved, no more words came out. He was too late. Sev was going to die.

"Nonono, stay with me, focus!" he ordered, and some of the fog retreated from the black irises. "Do you have an antidote on you?'

The Slytherin's head sagged to one side, then back to the other; no.

Harry cursed. He knew a few basic healing spells, but had focused more on preventing getting injured rather than healing injuries. Snake bites…he didn't know a healing spell for snake bites. Severus' eyes started to gloss over again.

Suddenly, there was a flash of light, a small burst off flame, and a juvenile phoenix appeared with a squawk.

Harry's heart soared. With no prompting, Hedwig found the still-bleeding snake-bites and shed a tear in each. The wounds sealed shut, and the blackish discoloration that had been spreading dissipated, leaving behind normal – if somewhat sallow – skin. Sev's eyes shut, but his breathing grew stronger, more regular, the breath of sleep.

"Thank you Hedwig," Harry brushed one hand tenderly on his familiar's head, smiling as she nuzzled against him and nipped one finger affectionately. "Stay with him, okay? Keep him safe; I'll be alright."

Pushing himself up to his feet, wincing at the pain in his hip, unaffected by the glamour, Harry moved to the door. There was silence outside, and he supposed that Voldemort and his followers were moving toward Hogwarts. When he opened the door, though, he was shocked to see Lucius standing outside, head bowed. Lucius looked equally surprised to see him.

"Potter," he gasped in shock, but did not raise a wand.

"Er…hello Malfoy." Harry brought his own wand out and the blond glanced at it, but Lucius remained empty-handed.

"Your wand is a brother to his, so he took mine," the Death Eater answered Harry's unspoken question. "Is Dra- is my son alright? He intends to fight, I assume, as Charles?"

Harry understood, then. Lucius' strong feelings for his son had broken the forgetfulness ward, and now he was struggling between loyalty to the Dark Lord and loyalty to his family. Well, it looked like, by taking his wand, Voldemort had tipped the scales a bit.

"He was well last I knew," he affirmed. "And he does intend to fight. Now either be useful or stay out of my way."

Lucius nodded, quite comfortable with the more heartless approach.

"I'll take care of Severus' body," he whispered.

"Oh, he's quite alive," Harry told him cheerfully. "And he'd best remain so, or you'll find yourself following him." Hopefully the threat would be enough, as Harry wouldn't exactly be around much longer to enforce it. Again, Lucius just nodded.

"You should hurry – they must be nearly to Hogwarts by now. They took the main road, to avoid the centaurs."

Harry nodded, grateful for the information, and left. He felt reasonably confident the centaurs wouldn't bother him, so he cut through the forest, running almost full out to get in front of the Death Eaters before they made it to Hogwarts. With his Occlumency shields lowered, he was able to get a feeling for where the Dark Lord was, and burst out of the trees just a hundred yards or so ahead.

Spotting him immediately, the whole deadly procession stopped, and shouts of "Potter!" and "There he is!" rang out from the ranks.

"Voldemort!" Harry shouted, pointing his wand at the pale, snake-like wizard. "You won't take one more step toward Hogwarts, not while I'm alive."

Slowly, the Dark Lord raised his wand. Harry heard him speak as if through a layer of water.

"I can accept those terms," he hissed. As he pronounced the Killing Curse, Harry stared at his face, which seemed to show anger, hatred, eagerness, and, strangely, disappointment.

_I wonder if I hurt Voldemort like I hurt Sev_, he wondered idly. The idea that the murderous, soul-damaged wizard had feelings was strange, but Aries he had seen Voldemort's delight in loyal, capable servants. Perhaps the revelation that Aries was not, and had never been loyal was the source of that disappointment.

Green light sparked at the end of Voldemort's wand, and Harry forced himself to move his wand to the side, focusing on the coming spell, the coming end.

_Will it hurt?_ he asked silently, tensing up as he fought his fight-or-flight reflexes. From somewhere beyond the veil, he thought he heard someone say, '_no, it's like falling asleep.'_

His vision flooded with green, and then he saw no more.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

The light was bright. He realized that fact before registering that his eyes were open. All he could see was the bright, white light, bright enough to be painful, but it wasn't. After a long time of staring at the light, it occurred to him that he must be on his back, looking at the sun. No sooner had the thought entered his mind than he could feel the grass beneath his back. Shifting to one side, he could see expansive lawns, and a clear, peaceful lake. The ground was warm, and the sun was good.

Long moments passed again, before it occurred to him that the lake was familiar. Turning to his other side, he could see Hogwarts, still and sentinel-like in the distance. He wondered if anyone there could see him, but the castle appeared deserted. Still, the thought of other people brought to mind his own vulnerable state, and he sat up, feeling a light robe come to rest on his shoulders.

He heard something crying, and looked over his shoulder, seeing the looming shadows of the Forbidden Forest, disturbingly close.

"Harry."

Facing forward again, he registered four figures, walking toward him.

"Harry."

He couldn't tell which of them was saying it. Was that his name? It seemed like it might be, but there was another name…

"Harry."

The four figures were right in front of him now, and he remembered it was rude to sit when others were standing, so he stood, more quickly and fluidly than he thought he should be able to.

"No catch in your hip here, eh?"

Focusing on their faces, he was finally able to see them, and his still heart lurched.

"Mum, Dad, Sirius, Remus," he named them, voice clear, despite how shaky he felt inside. "What are you doing here?"

"Now really, a better question might be what are _you_ doing here?" James asked, raising one eyebrow.

"Voldemort made Horcruxes to make himself immortal, I was the last one," his mouth said the words, and even as he spoke he remembered. Awareness came back to him of everything, the whole of the last nearly-forty years.

"That was a very brave thing you did," Lily told him. Harry fought the urge to blush.

"So I am dead, then?" he asked rhetorically. "I wouldn't have thought it would be Hogwarts…"

"Hogwarts!" Sirius barked a laugh. "Are we really? Well you always did have a connection to that place. Dead though, that's a better question, isn't it."

Harry ignored the confusing words, focusing on the one who had yet to speak. Remus looked much younger and healthier than he had the last time Harry had seen him.

"Remus," he choked out. "I'm sorry, I- I didn't want you to die. I didn't want any of you to die." Sure they must blame him, he turned away, not wanting to see their faces – faces he had held in his heart for long years, twisted in anger. "You must think I'm the worst sort of coward, standing aside and doing nothing."

"Harry, no," Remus reached out and clasped his shoulder tightly. "I'm sorry you think that. I didn't understand at first, but being here, I can see much better. You suffered as much as any of us because of our deaths, and there really was no way you could have prevented them."

"Frankly," Sirius added brightly, "the way time seems to work, if you'd deliberately tried to prevent one of our deaths, you probably would have ended up directly causing it. By staying smart and keeping out of it, you saved a whole lot of trouble."

"We understand, Harry, really we do," James assured him as well. "Things had to happen the way they'd happened the first time. And I know you don't see it, but you did help. There are a few people who would be here who aren't, your friend Severus not the least of them."

Harry pulled back, slowly feeling better.

"Then you're not mad, any of you? About any of it?" He looked specifically at Sirius, whose hatred of Snape was legendary, but the black-haired man just cocked a grin.

"If there's one thing you get when you're dead, it's a lot of perspective," he said lightly. "Snape is who he is for a reason. I'm glad you could see that when you were still around to do something about it."

_Do something about it…_

Harry looked down at his left arm, pulling up the sleeve of the robe. It was bare.

"It's over there," James said. Harry looked up to see his dad pointing at the forest. The thing cried out again. "All the bits of Dark are over there, along with Voldemort's piece of soul."

"Is that what's crying?" Harry asked, feeling a strange sort of pity well up for his former master. Lily laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Yes," she said. "He is beyond hope, without remorse for what he has done. A soul damaged and without remorse is an awful thing. But a soul who has done hard things for good reasons, who never forgets his purpose – well, death has a cleansing affect on such a soul as you."

Harry nodded, looking down at his bare arm. It was as if the last twenty years had never happened; except they had. And here he was, talking to his parents and their friends, though he had lived longer than them all.

"I'm glad you met me here," he told them. "I couldn't stand to be close to you, and not do anything, so I stayed away. But I never stopped missing you." He smiled at them, then looked beyond, toward Hogwarts. "So what happens now?"

"That's a bit of a ticklish question," James eyes lit up mischievously. "Mostly, I'd bet it's up to you."

"Up to me?" Harry echoed, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it's all very complicated, but you've dabbled in enough blood magic you should understand," Lily tapped one slender finger against her cheek as she spoke. "I sacrificed myself to save you, and that protection bound itself to your blood. That's why, when you were eleven, Voldemort couldn't touch you. But when you were fourteen, Voldemort used your blood to resurrect himself. So even though you caught the wrong end of a Killing Curse, the magic of the sacrifice is still alive in your blood, in Voldemort's veins. So now you're kind of in-between. Voldemort is mortal now, so you could go on with us and leave everyone else to finish him off. Or, you could go back and take care of him yourself, live years and years, be happy and free, get married, and make lots and lots of babies."

Harry's eyes grew wide and he stared at his mother as if seeing her for the first time. Sirius shared his horrified expression, Remus looked like he was holding in laughter, and James wasn't holding it in at all. Lily looked at them all and pouted.

"What? Being dead doesn't stop me from being a mother."

Harry laughed then, feeling wonderfully free. He had never let himself think like that before, aware of the task ahead of him. Had never let himself feel like he had choices, let alone a future. And both choices had their pros, but even as he debated, he knew he couldn't move on without seeing Voldemort dead. Besides, mortal or not, the Dark Lord was still the most powerful wizard alive, and could likely do an awful lot of damage before finally kicking the bucket. He would return, take care of the Dark Lord, and then…well, who knows?

The sun grew brighter and brighter as they laughed together, until he could no longer see his four family and friends. Soon, the sound faded away as well, and then, as if by the flick of a wand, the light went out.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Narcissa Malfoy held her breath as the green light surged toward Potter's young body. Lucius had told her about the time travel, about Potter and her little Draco, but it was difficult to believe watching the boy standing there. But if anyone understood the need to wear a particular face at a particular time, it was the Lady Malfoy. She wondered what Draco looked like at this moment.

The Killing Curse enveloped its target, but rather than the usual quiet, underwhelming death, a concussive explosion rocked the group, sending everyone – even the Dark Lord – to the ground. Panicked shouts rang out on all sides.

"My Lord! Are you alright?" Bellatrix shrieked, running to her master's side. Narcissa sneered at her sister's maniacal devotion for a moment, before remembering herself and schooling her features. The mask hid much, but not all.

"I am fine, I am fine!" the Dark Lord snapped, standing smoothly, but breathing heavily. "Check him, make sure he's dead. Check him!"

For a breath, nobody moved, and Narcissa was struck at just how scared the Death Eaters were of one boy who, as far as they knew, had not even taken his NEWTs. She stepped forward, gliding toward the still form, mind in turmoil. If he lived, and Voldemort found out, he would stop at nothing to make sure he was dead before entering the castle. He might even retreat, take the boy prisoner, study his body for months to find out how he had survived, and then she might never get to see her little boy again.

But if he was truly dead, then the war was lost for the side Draco had chosen anyway. They would advance, they would take Hogwarts, and maybe, just maybe she could convince him to put on his old face and survive with them, if the Dark Lord didn't know his true identity.

Still unsure what to hope for, she knelt by Potter's body and bent down. She couldn't hear breathing from the slack mouth, and the muscles behind the eyes didn't twitch. But she had to be sure. Reaching out with one trembling hand, she felt his chest over his heart.

ba-Thump; ba-Thump; ba-Thump.

Narcissa's heart clenched in fear – what _was_ this boy? – but in that instant she knew what she had to do, to win back her son's favor, and see him again.

"He is dead," she declared, standing up and retreating back to the circle of masked faces.

The Death Eaters cheered, and even Voldemort cracked a twisted, snake-like smile.

"At last," he hissed, and his followers immediately quieted to hear him. "This thorn in my side is gone at last. See how weak he is, how he came to his death at my command. _Crucio!_"

Narcissa's breath caught in her throat at the spell, sure that Potter would give himself – and her – away from the pain; but, though his body convulsed under the spell, not a muscle moved voluntarily, nor a sound emerged. She could hardly believe it, and unwillingly her respect for the boy increased.

"Now, let us show those fools at Hogwarts what remains of their 'savior'," the Dark Lord cried in triumph. "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

Potter's body was lifted up, and he continued to remain perfectly limp as he was turned comically upside down before being settled in an upright position, chest to the sky. The procession moved forward.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Charles clenched his fist around the parchment until his fingernails broke the skin, staining the inadequate note crimson. In another corner of the Great Hall, two voices rose in wordless denial, and the redhead knew that Weasley and Granger had received the same awful news. His legs shook, his throat seemed to close, and a rushing in his ears blocked out all sound except the litany in his mind:

_If you are reading this, then I am dead…_

That bastard, that utter _bastard_. How dare he have kept this from him? How dare he have carried this burden alone for so long? And then to spring it on him after he was gone!

His eyes blurred, and he clenched his jaw around whatever screams or curses or unidentifiable sounds were trying to emerge.

"Death Eaters!" someone shouted suddenly. "On the road from Hogsmead!"

The sudden ruckus drowned out Granger's cries, and the whole gathered body of able fighters surged outside, lining up in front of the steps to the castle. In seconds, highlighted by the evening sun, a long line of black-cloaked figures came into focus. At their head was one more terrifying than the rest, despite the fact that his pale face was almost indiscernible from the white masks of his servants, save for the lack of a black hood on his robe. He had his wand raised, and before their faces a limp body floated halfway to Hogwarts before being dropped to the ground.

"Harry Potter," Voldemort declared, his voice magnified just enough to carry the hundred yards or so to those at the castle. "He tried to desert you. Begged me to take him to my side, make him one of my own. He even allowed me to mark him, you can check his arm – use revealing charms if you must. He was not worthy of joining my ranks.

"You do not have to follow him. Surrender, allow me to take the castle, and I will welcome you all with open arms. Your children, your spouses, your whole families will be forgiven for standing against me. Together we can make a new world, one where all witches and wizards have the power we deserve. The sun is almost below the horizon, and without my protection you will all be devoured by the werewolves, giants, and other creatures who have had the courage to reach out for what I have to offer. What say you?"

"NEVER!"

The shouted denial came from, of all people, Neville Longbottom. Charles looked at the boy, amazed to see a young man in his place, jaw firm and eyes full of fire. As the echo of his voice faded, the ground started to shake, and Hogwarts began to crumble.

-8-8-8-8-8-8-8-

Harry could not believe his luck. Narcissa Malfoy, for whatever reason, had declared him dead. Voldemort was none the wiser. When the second Unforgivable was cast, he raised his Occlumency walls, so high and thick that, though he felt the pain, it was as if it were happening to someone else. He was safe inside his mind, protected by the knowledge of his unexpected survival.

The Dark Lord's levitation spell carried him forward, and he carefully kept his eyes closed, trying to look as dead as possible. Although Voldemort, walking below him, would not see if he took a deep breath, the last thing he needed was someone at Hogwarts to cheer that he was still alive.

As soon as they entered Hogwarts' wards, Harry felt like cheering, the tendrils of magic practically _leapt_ to touch him. The levitation spell ended, and he dropped to the ground, which softened like a cushion beneath him. Lying still, blocking out all that was going on around him, he opened his magical core to the castle. This time, there was no rejection, the Dark Magic had been stripped from him in death, and every bit of Hogwarts bound to him freely.

Remembering his father's last bit of advice, Harry voicelessly incanted a spell he would not have believed existed, were he not fresh from the afterlife.

_Draco Dormiens Titilluri_ – I tickle the sleeping dragon.

Both Death Eaters and the defenders of Hogwarts cried out as the ground began to shake. Confused cries turned to screams as the shaking was combined with the sound of rock grinding against rock. Somewhere, Voldemort was laughing, apparently convinced this was somehow his doing. Harry felt the last rays of sun slip from his face, bathing Hogwarts in darkness. In a matter of seconds, the whole area was reduced to chaos. Werewolves howled, giants roared, wizards and witches screamed.

No one noticed a dead body rise to its feet and run for the castle. He didn't dare slip into the shadows, lest he lose the connection with Hogwarts and control of the transformation. In the darkness, it seemed as if the castle were crumbling, falling to pieces, and he could practically taste the despair of the defenders. But they were standing for an ideal much larger than the school, and their spells did not falter as they fought and protected one another.

Harry couldn't tell who noticed first, but at almost the same time he reached the closest pile of rocks, voices started to cry out in excitement.

"It's a dragon!"

"Dragon of stone!"

"Hogwarts has turned into a dragon!"

Harry had barely formed the request in his mind before the Hogwarts Dragon lifted him up, setting him on its head. Casting a quick _Lumos_ and _Sonorus_, he faced the scrambling crowd below.

"Voldemort," he began, and nearly jumped at how loud and young his voice seemed. "You have failed. You cast the Killing Curse at me when I was a baby, and it failed. You cast the Killing Curse at me again, just moments ago, and it failed again. Harry Potter lives, and as the Ward Master and Defender of Hogwarts, in the name of the Castle Hogwarts, I reject you."

The castle dragon roared, and the wards shuddered like a dog shaking off water. The curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts professorship sparked off into the sky. More sparks collected on the dragon's stony skin, finally running up its throat to its mouth. With another earth-shaking roar, the sparks of magic flew toward Voldemort and any who bore his mark. They shielded quickly, and most survived, but anyone with Voldemort's magic was forced to the edge of the grounds.

Voldemort screamed in frustration, urging the werewolves, giants, and other non-humans – those deemed unworthy to be marked – to attack. The dark wizard raised his wand, attacking the castle dragon. Harry poured his own magic into the wards, protecting the castle and the wizards and witches below. Wanting to end this quickly, he asked the dragon to take flight. Sinking down below his own senses, he saw through the dragon's eyes a physical and magical view of those fighting below. Hogwarts followed his guidance and swept away the trespassers – not killing them, but tossing them into the forest and the lake, to be dealt with by their inhabitants.

The great stone dragon flew forward, toward the crowd of Death Eaters. Most scattered, abandoning their Lord, though a few remained, Bellatrix among them.

_Tom Riddle, _he thought, and the castle thought, and they both thought together. _You were once a child of Hogwarts, but now you seek to harm those she protects. Your mater rejects you._

"NO!" Voldemort shouted. "Hogwarts. Is. MINE! _Imperio!_"

The spell slipped along the ward threads, travelling upward with lighting speed, and finally striking Harry.

_"Give me the castle, give it to me, my faithful servant, my Spellsmith_," the serpentine voice hissed inside his head.

"I was never yours," Harry retorted calmly. The peaceful feeling of the Imperius Curse was nothing compared to the peace of the afterlife, and he could recognize the fake as easily as spotting a giant among goblins. The spell dissipated into the ether, as if it had never been.

A desire for revenge warred with feelings of pity, but both were overlaid by a firm determination – twenty seven years strong – to protect his friends. His family.

Voldemort, and all the Death Eaters who had not fled, perished in the flame of the Hogwarts stone dragon.

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_Epilogue:_

Its task done, the castle needed no direction from Harry to land and reform itself, much to the relief of the Order members, Aurors, and other allies gathered. Charles summoned a school broom and darted up to the highest tower, which had been the dragon's head until a moment before. Harry was unconscious, as Charles had expected given the enormous amount of magic he must have channeled, though the former Auror was a bit surprised that he was still glamoured to look like his old, 17-year-old self. He would have figured the glamour would wear off at some point. Shrugging, the redhead raised his wand to levitate his friend to the Great Hall, where the other injured were being treated, but stopped short as he remembered Harry's dead body being levitated by Voldemort.

Shaking his head at his own sentimentality, he nevertheless carried the smaller man himself.

He arrived at just in time to receive yet another major shock. Standing awkwardly in the middle of the room were Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, next to the body of one Severus Snape – unhappy, but clearly alive – being guarded by Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. All heads turned to watch as Charles entered, and Granger full-on ran to him.

"Professor Higgins, is he really, I mean," she stammered uncharacteristically, eyes red-rimmed from crying, and hair mussed from the fight.

"He is alive," he assured her, continuing toward an empty cot. "Magically drained, naturally, the melodramatic baboon, but alive. You get Madam Pomfrey to check on him, I'll deal with this…other situation."

She hesitated a moment, but wisely bit down on any words questioning his judgment, merely nodding and scampering off.

"Weasley," Charles ordered, walking toward the Malfoys, "guard him until Granger and Pomfrey get back."

Ron didn't even hesitate – after fighting side-by-side today, they were beyond questioning each others' loyalties – leaving Charles alone with his– with the Malfoys, and Severus.

"Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, known and acknowledged Death Eaters," he drawled, making sure his wand was in full view, but neither pointing nor drawing it yet, "what brings you to Hogwarts on this…_lovely_ day?"

The two of them looked worn, tired, far worse than he remembered from before going back in time, though that was less than four days ago. Lucius looked at him with a pale shadow of his usual measuring, calculating glance before, uncharacteristically, clearing his throat.

"Charles Higgins III," he murmured. "I would never have guessed. But, the situation is what it is. The Malfoy family, the bloodline, matters more to me than any other loyalties. Thus, where my son has led, I shall follow."

"I would very much like to get to know you, for the man that you are," Narcissa's soft, familiar tones added. "I suspect you would make any mother proud."

Charles couldn't help it – he was touched. They were being very circumspect, allowing no suspicion that he was truly the son of which they spoke, but offering a friendship – even a welcome into the Malfoy line – without endangering secrets, loyalties, or lives. Granted, he was no fool. If they had remembered that Harry Potter was Aries Hesuchazo, they surely had realized how little chance Voldemort had of winning this petty war; their own survival was surely as much a factor as any love for a long lost son. But Charles was a Slytherin too, and knew that the inclusion of self preservation into consideration of a decision did not invalidate the other gains.

"Perhaps that can be arranged," he said slowly, giving nothing away except in a softening around the eyes. "You will understand, of course, the need to be questioned by those at the head before attending to more…personal matters."

"I would expect nothing less," Lucius approved.

Poppy returned about then, allowing Ron to rejoin his post as guard of the 'prisoners'. This also freed Charles, and he immediately went about his next order of official business – checking just how mad Severus still was.

Pretty mad, as it turned out.

The black-haired man refused to talk to him, barely gracing him with a look so full of venom Charles would not be surprised if he had been poisoned by it. He was pronounced healthy and – based on Charles and Aries' good words – allowed to return to his former quarters in the dungeons until the official paperwork had been completed.

Harry was also pronounced healthy, physically, but took a full week to wake up from his exhaustion-induced coma. During that time, Charles had had Sev's door slammed in his face twice, been glared at in corridors and other halls at least a dozen times, and been spat on once (though that last incident was mostly his own fault – poor timing and all that).

Thus, after Harry had eaten a good meal, tested his legs and found them working – and learned that he was, in fact, no longer glamoured at all, but had been returned to life in his 17-year-old body – Charles was more than happy to use his friend as a shield during his next attempt to visit the prickly Slytherin.

Honestly, all things considered, it went as well as could be expected. After Sev slammed the door in both their faces, Harry simply asked the castle to let them in, which it promptly did. It took the both of them several minutes to disarm the other wizard, but finally, with nowhere to run and no wand to help him escape, Severus opened his mouth and vented his spleen.

Afterward, Charles would muse on how his vocabulary had been expanded by the enlightening rant, but at the time, he felt about one inch tall.

"If either of you know me at all, you know how I value my privacy, how closely I guard my secrets," the Slytherin had hissed at one point. "If you could not do me the courtesy of knowing in whom I was confiding, you should have done me the courtesy of _leaving me bloody well alone_. I haven't the slightest idea what nefarious or ill-advised plan led you to seek out my company, but rest assured if I could go back in time, knowing what I know, I would have sent my younger self to Durmstrang where I would have been out of reach of both of you."

Charles stood there and took it, feeling only a slight comfort in the knowledge that it had been Aries' idea, not his, to befriend the Slytherin. Harry seemed similarly affected, head bowed and hands clenched in fists. The redhead wished his friend had re-applied his glamour, but McGonagall had already officially declared Aries Hesuchazo dead, and all his crimes with him, making it far too dangerous for him to wear the old familiar face.

Suddenly, Harry lashed out, shoving Severus in the chest with enough force that he was propelled back, landing, startled, on the couch.

"I get it!" Harry shouted. "I know you feel victimized, I know we violated your trust, and I feel _horrible_ about it! I've felt horrible about it for the last twenty years, but Severus, we _couldn't change anything_. We couldn't save you from becoming a Death Eater, we couldn't save anyone, do you understand? So I'm sorry if I latched on to the one familiar face I knew wouldn't be dead when we made it back. But I don't regret getting to know you better, I don't regret learning to trust you, and I don't regret the fact that you're still alive."

Severus glared at him in stony silence, looking for all the world like he was simply upset his rant had been interrupted. Harry growled and turned away, slamming the door shut behind him. After a long, awkward silence, Charles spoke, though he avoided Severus' eyes.

"He'll probably feel terrible for yelling at you when he calms down," he said. "He's going through a lot right now – has to retake his NEWTs, decide if he wants to re-apply at the Spellsmith Guild, not to mention he's stuck in puberty again– "

"Yes, yes, that's quite enough," Severus snarled. "You would have me forgive him? You have no right to ask that of me."

"I'm not," Charles shook his head. "You're the only one who can decide what truly needs to be forgiven, and whether you want to grant it." He turned to leave, but stopped just short of the door, cursing infernal Gryffindors for infecting him. "But Severus," he added, "We both would be quite glad of your continued acquaintance. It is up to you to choose whether depriving us of that happiness is worth depriving yourself of two friends, whom you know are in your debt."

In the silence that followed, Charles tossed Severus' wand back to him and left, calmly shutting the door.

The next few months were quite eventful. Draco Malfoy was officially proclaimed guilty of the murder of Albus Dumbledore, in the same edition of the Daily Prophet that carried his Obituary. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy made a great show of mourning their son, proclaiming his innocence and the travesty of his name being sullied after his death. After the furor died down, they quietly carried out a bloodline-adoption of one Charles Higgins III, to prevent the Malfoy line from dying out. Charles went along with it happily – after all, it allowed him to both ensure his future fortunes, and keep an eye on two known criminals.

Harry Potter performed admirably on his NEWTs, getting an Outstanding in Charms, Defense, Transfiguration, Runes and Arithmancy, an Exceeds Expectations in Potions, an Acceptable in History of Magic, and Trolls in Divination and Care of Magical Creatures. He allowed Hagrid to show Hedwig off in class as an apology. His Internationalis Magicalis was published under his usual pen name, and sold quite well in a new atmosphere of tolerance the ministry was promoting. Between his parents' vault and Aries' vault – which the Goblins kindly allowed him to keep, after an extensive identity verification test, and even then only after being vouched for by Crunchmallet Daggerlaw – Harry had quite enough to live comfortably without needing to work another day.

He was back at Atlantis University the next semester, with official Gringotts documents allowing him to claim Aries Hesuchazo's degree. Sometimes he loved the international races – they didn't care one whit what the Ministry of Magic of Britain had charged him with, or that Aries Hesuchazo was officially dead, and they certainly weren't going to go to the papers with the information.

Over a year passed since the death of Voldemort, and neither Harry nor Charles had heard from Severus. But when they met at the Safe House to exchange gifts, they found two wrapped potions bottles waiting on the counter. They shared a laugh at their stubborn friend, but neither minded waiting a bit longer for him to come around.

After all, they had the rest of their lives ahead now, with time to spare.

**-8-8-8-8-8-8-8**

**A/N: THE END! I cannot believe it! The saga is over! (does a little dance) I hope you all enjoyed it more than I did. I will miss you all, my readers, particularly those faithful few who followed me from the beginning. You can find a few unfinished original works at my fictionpress account (same username, the link is listed as my homepage on my profile here), and with this, fanfiction and I must part. Adieu!**

**PANTZ,**

**Emerson Lore Sabath**


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